Romione: 30 Day OTP Challenge
by Ashleopard
Summary: What the title says! 30 days of daily updates based off prompts written with Ron/Hermione! Rated T for language and adult themes in certain places. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone!**

**As has been mentioned before, I have been depressed for a long while now. But, thankfully, things are finally starting to look up for me. Getting back into the gear of writing, I've decided to take on the 30 Day OTP challenge. This obviously means that I will be updating this every day for the next month! Each chapter will be somewhere around the 500 word mark, so generally short, but quick coming. As I said, this is an exercise I'm using to start writing (which, I regret to admit, became less of a priority in the last few months). Anyway, I'll say more after the chapter regarding my other stories. Enjoy!**

**Day 1: Holding Hands**

Hermione sat at a table, running her finger around the rim of her glass of Butterbeer. What she wanted more than anything right now was to walk up to the Dormitories and lay down in a four-poster bed – any one, it didn't matter – and sleep. However, at the same time, she wanted to stay awake and cry, and talk to her friends, and go home, and see her parents, but also do something productive. In the end, though, it didn't matter, because all she was doing was sitting, staring at her full glass and trying to believe that Voldemort was actually dead.

She'd almost made up her mind for the fourth time when she felt a weight take a seat on the bench beside her. Looking up, she found Ron sitting beside her, wearing a nervous smile that she couldn't help but return. She was wondering if he wanted to talk to her; Merlin knew she'd been hoping and dreading he would. She bit her lip in a nervous habit, eyes tracing the features of his face, reading him like a book.

Usually, she would be able to see right through him simply by his expression, but today she was distracted. His face wasn't as it normally was: pale and clean with protruding freckles. His stubble had grown out and his usually white skin was smeared in dirt; a long cut on his cheek looked nasty, covered in dried blood and grime. His freckles were still there, hidden beneath it all, but she could still make them out. Hermione felt a stone settling in her stomach. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but didn't seem capable of basic motor functions.

His eyes only remained the same. Clear water blue, bright with relief and lids sagging with exhaustion. As she watched he glanced down to the table. Without saying a word, he gently took her right hand in his, pulled it from the Butterbeer, and set it on the table, cupping it. Hermione entwined her fingers with his, flexing them to get a better grip. She could feel her eyes watering. He didn't know how much it meant that he'd taken the initiative this time; he was holding her hand, not the other way around. It made her feel as if a weight had been lifted off her chest: he'd told her exactly what she'd wanted to know without uttering a word.

What Hermione wanted more than anything right then was to scoot closer and rest her head on his chest, listen to his beating heart through his soiled shirt and close her eyes and allow herself to be surrounded by Ron. But something told her she couldn't do that, not now. Someday, she promised herself, but today wasn't that day.

And so they sat, holding hands and smiling at each other, talking to other people when they came along and drinking Butterbeer with their free hands. Every so often he would run his thumb along her index finger and Hermione would close her eyes and smile, feeling as if everything would be alright as long as she had him to hold onto.

Years later, she would look back and call it the moment they became a couple.

**Short and sweet, right? I hope!**

**Okay, as for my other stories. **

**The final installment of **_**The Dream Hermione **_**is currently my number one priority after this and, considering these only take forty-five minutes maybe an hour of my day, it will be the first thing I turn to after. I know, seven months, I'm pushing it, but I promise I'm going to make it worth it!**

**As for **_**How I Met Your Father, **_**that will be my second priority. I'm not really sure what I want to do with the next chapter and if anyone feels like it, I'm open to ideas through reviews (here or on the story) or PM's! Anyway, I'll be getting to those.**

**Feel free to leave a review for this chapter and any future chapters telling me what you think! Your wonderful reviews have helped me out a lot in the last few months and I'd like to thank every single one of you for your support through my lazy and inconsistent updates!**

**Until tomorrow!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay everyone, Day 2 and still going strong! That's a good sign. Anyway, this chapter is slightly awkward… I tried to make it as clear and simple as possible but we all know that there's nothing 'simple' about writing two characters cuddling. So, keeping that in mind, enjoy the chapter!**

**Day 2: Cuddling Somewhere**

Ron, while happy for the money, was not pleased with his work schedule.

When he wasn't helping track down dark wizards, he was inventing the newest woobly-doobly doo with George for the shop. He usually worked so that, by the time he got home, all he really wanted to do was collapse in bed and sleep. It felt like he never had free time to see Hermione anymore, which didn't really matter, in the end, because she was off on her seventh year at Hogwarts.

It was when winter holidays came around that Ron became exceptionally irritated. He was scheduled to work all through the holidays; straight through every chance he would have to see Hermione. He took his case to both of his bosses. It took a little shuffling and a lot of patience, but Ron finally got his time off.

They spent as much time together as possible between their different families and, when Christmas day arrived, Ron didn't waste a second of her company.

It was after Christmas brunch was served and forgotten that Ron settled down on the couch, his legs up on the coffee table as he relaxed sleepily, his stomach full. Most of the family had gone outside to take part in a rather chilly game of Quidditch while he'd chosen to stay inside, knowing he'd have more time with Hermione that way (not to mention he didn't have a broom).

As he'd hoped, Hermione joined him. Molly and Fleur were talking in the kitchen, but otherwise, they were alone. Hermione settled beside him and he wrapped his arm around her, rubbing the soft knit of her own Weasley jumper. "I assume you liked my gift," he said, smiling at where she was fiddling with a scarlet bracelet on her left wrist.

"I love it," she grinned, kissing him on the cheek. "It was very thoughtful of you, Ron."

"A beautiful bracelet for a beautiful girl," he said. He knew how cheesy it made him sound, but figured that it was the kind of thing men in books would say and Hermione generally liked men in books.

Hermione blushed a rosy shade of pink. "You're looking quite dashing yourself, Mr. Weasley," she said in a soft, flirtatious voice. Her hand was on his chest, fingers admiring his own maroon jumper. "Did I ever tell you how handsome you look in maroon?"

Ron's ear tips went red. "I don't believe you have, Ms. Granger."

"Well, you do." Hermione slid down, resting her head against his shoulder. Ron shifted so he sat at a sideways angle, his back resting between the arm and back of the chair and the heel of his right foot on the coffee table, his left propped on the right. Hermione lay so she was on her side, her upper body slanted against Ron's and her right foot rubbing down his right shin.

Hermione hummed.

"What?"

"Shh," she said, looking up at him with soft brown eyes. She took the hand of his arm that was hung over her shoulder and laced her fingers with his, relaxing so the met on her shoulder as she leaned back. "I want to enjoy this moment."

Ron couldn't help but chuckle. Their position, after all, was both awkward yet comfortable. But, coming to his senses, he quieted, resting his eyes as he set his head on top of Hermione's, inhaling the intoxicating scent of vanilla shampoo.

This was how the rest of the family found them an hour later, fast asleep on the couch, curled into each other's bodies and seemingly perfectly content.

**As I said, nothing simple about cuddling.**

**Like and favorite if you enjoyed (or leave a review; whatever fits your fancy). Thanks for your understanding now and in the past few months and I'll see you again tomorrow!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay guys, I had a lot of fun on this one. Also, I am afraid that since these chapters are coming pretty fast that they might be a little sloppy and perhaps OOC, but I'm trying to make it as canon as possible. :) Anyway, while I don't think it's absolutely necessary, I guess this is as good a place to put a disclaimer…**

**Disclaimer: I think it is pretty obvious that I'm not JK Rowling. Also, in case you were wondering, I do not own William Shakespeare. I didn't want anyone to get confused. Good, I feel better now that we've got that cleared up. **

**Day 3: Gaming/Watching a Movie**

After a long week at work, Hermione always looked forward to movie night.

After the wedding, Ron and Hermione had quickly fallen into a weekly schedule. This involved the normal, everyday work routine, their Wednesday night date (supposed to 'keep the romance alive', according to Ginny), Sunday morning brunch at the Weasley's, and Saturday night movie night.

They had been doing movie night for nearly two months and it was Ron's night, which meant he made dinner and chose the movie while Hermione relaxed or, more commonly, did work for her job at the Ministry.

She stayed in the small study until around 7:00 when Ron called for her. "Hermione, it's movie time!"

"One more minute!" Hermione called back, finishing the last of her paperwork. She was relieved she'd had the time to get it done, leaving her free to enjoy the remainder of her weekend.

"Hurry up! I can't figure out how to turn the telly on!"

"Thirty seconds!"

Hermione chuckled. Check yes here, fill in blank there, sign her name at the bottom, finished! "I'm coming!" she yelled, neatly stacking her work in a pile on the desk and leaving the room.

Ron was waiting on the couch, staring expectantly at the black screen. "Blasted thing won't turn on…"

Hermione rolled her eyes. It didn't seem to matter how many times they went through this, she still found it cute to see him so confused by something that – to her – was so simple. "Press the power button; turn on the VCR; no, channel three, Ron, there we go. And hand me the tape…"

He did so and Hermione almost fell over laughing when she saw what he'd handed her. "What?" Ron asked, looking puzzled. "Percy recommended it when I asked. Said it was romantic; that you would like it."

Hermione didn't say anything, only shook her head as she pushed _Romeo and Juliet _into the VCR player. "_Romeo and Juliet _is a play written by William Shakespeare – he's rather famous in the Muggle world. In fact, this is one of his most well-known pieces, still read in Muggle English classes today."

"Wait, what do Muggles need classes in _English _for?"

Ten minutes of fast-forwarding through commercials and trying to explain the basic concept of Muggle education, Hermione and Ron finally settled on the couch, eating a rather delicious lasagna that Ron seemed to have finally mastered as they watched.

_"Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?"_

_ "I do bite my thumb, sir."_

_ "Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?"_

"What?"

Hermione leapt in. "Biting your thumb at someone in that age was the equivalence of giving someone the fingers, or saying 'F you' to their face."

Ron beamed. "I think I'll be using that from now on!"

Hermione slapped his shoulder ("I was _joking!_"), smiling and telling him to pay attention to the movie.

_"If I profane with my unworthiest hand, This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this,- My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand, To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."_

_ "Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this, For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmer's kiss."_

"What are they saying now?"

"He's being romantic, Ron."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Does this bloke really believe he's going to get in that bird's pants by going on about – huh?" He blinked at where Romeo and Juliet were now passionately embracing on screen, breaking apart to whisper a few words before they were kissing again. "Bloody hell, didn't they just meet?!"

"Just because it took us seven years doesn't mean it takes every couple that long."

"But they literally _just _met!"

"Didn't you hear the Prologue, Ron? 'A pair of star-crost lovers', indicating that they are – in theory – the perfect match. The stars aligned and they were meant to be."

Ron glared suspiciously at the screen. "Bit shady if you ask me…"

As the movie ran its course, the dirty lasagna dishes made their way onto the coffee table. Ron and Hermione slid down to cuddle beneath a warm blanket, watching the movie with few interruptions, which Hermione would admit was impressive, considering Ron probably didn't have a clue of what they were saying.

Of course, Ron still had his moments.

"They're married _already?"_

"Oh, the wedding night… Remember ours? (*wink* "_Ron!"_) Just kidding, it was pretty good though, wasn't it? Ouch! Fine, I'm watching…"

"I don't like where this is going, Hermione…"

"That's a bad idea."

"NO."

"She's alive you fu- ("_Language!_") –uuunloving prick!"

"He's dead."

"Oh… she's dead."

"EVERYBODY'S DEAD."

When the movie was over, Ron seemed as frustrated as ever. Hermione found it quite amusing. "But it was so close," Ron groaned. "Another ten seconds – _ten god damn seconds – _and they'd have had it."

"I take it you enjoyed the movie?" Hermione teased.

Ron, even in spite of his annoyance, put on a crooked smile. "I can see why people enjoy it, but I don't get why it's so famous. I mean, everyone dies!"

"I believe that's why they call it a _tragedy."_

Rewinding the tape and putting it back in its case, Ron and Hermione continued to get ready for bed. Hermione was already tucked in and half asleep when Ron joined her, slipping under the covers.

"Hey, Hermione?"

Hermione squinted her eyes shut, wishing she were already asleep.

"Yes, Ron?"

He cleared his throat. "I was wondering if, before we embrace in a graceful slumber, you would so kindly sooth my rough blushing pilgrims with your saintly touch?"

Hermione was immediately awake, laughing out loud. She looked up and saw Ron laying on his side next to her, his head propped on his elbow looking thoroughly insulted. "Excuse me, I was only being romantic and polite! You are always quick enough to accuse me of letting the romance die and here I am, trying to-"

She cut him off, kissing him tenderly on the lips. "How long did it take you to think that up?" she asked, cuddling in beside him.

He slid onto his back, putting his arm around her. "Three-fourths of the movie," he admitted.

Hermione laughed, angling her head to give him a final kiss on the chin before settling down to sleep. "Goodnight. I love you."

"I love you too, my pilgrim-soothing saint."

**XD I do enjoy that ending… he's not going to let that go for a while!**

** Like, favorite and review if you enjoyed! I'm enjoying myself way too much in this challenge so far and hope you guys can say the same! Thank you for the kind reviews (they may or may not make me cry happy tears; I admit to nothing) and I'll be back with so much more Romione tomorrow!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'd like to start this chapter thanking everyone who has shown their support, whether it be following or favoriting or reviewing! You all make my day and I hope you guys understand how much it means to me.**

**Anyway, all I have to say is that this chapter was another fun one. Maybe they're all fun, I don't know, but this one was especially so. :)**

**Day 4: On A Date**

"Ron, are you ready?"

"One moment!"

"Where are you?"

"The play room."

The sound of Hermione's heels clicking down the hall stopped at the entrance to the room. "Ron, what are you doing?"

Ron didn't look at her, but instead focused on the Lego castle he was building. "Making a castle," he explained. "Hugo and Rose were working on it before Mum picked them up and I promised that I'd finish it before our date."

Ron heard a muffled noise and looked over his shoulder to see Hermione taking off her heels, holding her skirt as entered to sit beside him on the carpeted floor. "Was he feeling better today?" she asked, picking up a stray red Lego and observing it curiously.

"Yeah, reckon he'll be fine to go back to Day Care tomorrow," Ron said, reconsidering his construction on one of the towers. "All the same, George wasn't too pleased with me taking off work today."

"I'll do it next time," Hermione promised, adding the red Lego to what Ron realized had been an asymmetrical tower. "I just had an important meeting today that I simply couldn't miss…" She sighed heavily. "Almost wish I had taken off to stay home with them. I swear, they seem more sense than half the wizards I deal with on a daily basis!"

Ron and Hermione shared a laugh and spent another minute in silence. "I don't know," Ron said, tilting his head. "Does something seem wrong to you?"

Hermione squinted at the castle. "You mean apart from the lack of color pattern?" She paused. "Of course! There's no entrance!" she motioned to the front of the castle which was a colorful mess of wall.

Ron nodded, "That would be it!" He tilted the side of the castle upwards at a gentle angle as his wife removed several Legos. It took almost five minutes to make an entryway with no protruding Legos, but they did it. "That's better." He smiled at her. "Okay, what else can we do?"

"You've already received my input," Hermione said. "What do you think, Ron?"

Ron narrowed his eyes at the castle. It was pretty simple: four large walls, almost large enough for Hugo to fit in, and one tower that stretched higher than the walls. "I got it!" he exclaimed. He crawled across the room, ignoring the sound of Hermione giggling at him. "Here!" he grabbed Rose's stuffed dragon (Hermione's parents had gotten it for her – Ron couldn't grasp the concept of who would buy a five-year-old such an atrocious thing). Crawling back, he set the glittery purple beast on one of the walls. "That's better. Now what? Is there anything else we can do to perfect this magnificent masterpiece?"

Hermione examined the material she had to work with for a moment before she found what she'd been looking for. "Watch," she instructed, picking up the torso of a Lego man. She fit a head onto it with brown hair and black pants. Taking her wand from her purse, she pointed it at the hair and whispered an incantation so it turned bright orange. "Perfect," she beamed, leaning to put the man on the tower. "I think it's finished."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Of course it isn't!" he scoffed, picking up the nearest abdomen and legs he could find. It took a moment longer to find a girl face but he did, and then long, straight black hair. "This simply will not do," he said, pulling his wand from his pocket. He performed a simple transfiguration spell to make the hair exactly as he wanted – wild, brown, and bushy – before putting the Lego woman together and setting her beside the Lego man. "Now it's finished."

They sat back to admire their work, Ron grinning like an idiot. "Anyway, what time is it?"

"6:30," Hermione said, frowning slightly. "We spent half an hour playing with Legos."

Ron scratched his neck, smiling sheepishly. "Well, it's a pretty damn good castle, you gotta admit. Besides, we don't have to go out. There's some juicy-juice and leftover chicken in the fridge. If we heat that up we'll still have time to make a stable for Rose's toy horses!"

"That is… surprisingly appealing," Hermione grinned. "But how about you pick out two glasses and a bottle of Firewhiskey instead? I'll change into something more comfortable and we can meet back here in five minutes. Deal?"

Ron nodded enthusiastically, feeling as though things were about to get a lot more interesting. "Five minutes," he agreed, leaning in to give her a brief kiss. "See you then."

**XD I got so wrapped up in the story that halfway through I forgot that I wasn't Ron and suddenly realized I wasn't playing Legos with Hermione. **

**Anyway, like and favorite if you enjoyed! I love anyone who reviews with all my heart and hope you're all having as much fun reading this as I am writing. Until tomorrow!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I must say, this chapter was a little more difficult. I mean, you give a writer the prompt 'kissing' and it's like… yeah? Details? No? Well, then, it must be fluff! **

**Day 5: Kissing**

"Checkmate."

Hermione stared in dismay at the chessboard they'd set up on top of Ron's sheets. "But how…?"

"You moved the bishop," Ron explained. "After I snatched your queen, it was the only defense you had left for the king."

"But what about the rook?"

Ron snorted. "That thing's as useless in a pawn in this situation."

Hermione sighed. "Well, it seems as if you've won. What do you want me to do this time, and I assure you I'm _not _playing Quidditch with you again."

"Nah, I think I'll make matters more enjoyable for both parties this time," Ron said, smirking at Hermione.

"Fine, what is it?"

"A kiss."

"A kiss? Really?" Hermione asked. Four months into dating, he could have all the kisses he wanted. Then again, she shouldn't be complaining.

"Yes, a nice, long, passionate kiss, if you know what I mean." He wriggled his brow.

"You want a full on snog!" Hermione accused him in a teasing manner. "I can't believe it… the nerve of you! Trying to win a snog out of me…"

"Well, if you're going to be all fussy about it-" he moved quickly, catching her around the waist.

Hermione let out a squeak of surprise and wrapped her legs around his upper torso. She glared up at where he was leaning over her with mock irritation. "Maybe… if you say the magic word," she prompted, pushing him away by the chest.

"Which one?"

"It was Alohamora, but it changed now. You have to guess."

Ron frowned in dismay. "C'moooon, 'Mione," he drawled. "Just one kiss?"

"Not until I have the magic word."

"Well, in that case, I'll have to get it from you by force."

"I doubt tha-"

Hermione had been prepared for a number of things, but Ron _tickling_ her hadn't been one of them. His fingers dug into the skin on her sides and hips and Hermione started laughing uncontrollably. "Oh my god! No – not fair!" she screamed, kicking her legs helplessly. She knocked the chessboard off the bed and it fell to the floor with a loud _thud_. "U – un – called for!" She attempted to push him away with her arms, but they were too short to reach low enough for a good grip.

"Really? You want me to stop?"

"R-ron!"

"What's the magic word?"

Hermione choked between laughs. "Al-ohamora! Quidd – dditch! I d-don't know!"

Ron stopped just as Hermione felt she couldn't handle anymore. "For your information," he said matter-of-factly, "the magic word was _please._" Hermione rolled her eyes, panting for breath. "So, how 'bout now? Gonna give me that kiss?"

"Not yet."

Ron frowned in disappointment. "Really? Must I go by more means of physical torture to get it out of you?"

Confident there couldn't be anything more humiliating than the tickling she'd just experienced, Hermione put on a brave face. "I'd like to see you try."

"Then you leave me no choice." Hermione twitched and laughed as his hands rested on her hips, just to realize that he, in fact, wasn't tickling her. Instead, he held them still. She looked up at his face – a mask of concentration as his fingers played beneath her shirt, making contact with the soft skin of her belly. He pushed her shirt up to her ribs, fully exposing her pale stomach.

"Um, Ron," she said quietly, "what're you…"

She didn't get time to finish her thought. Taking a deep breath, Ron ducked down and blew a loud, obnoxious raspberry into her stomach. It was the strangest, most unnatural feeling; air, saliva, and his stubble scratching at her stomach and making the strangest sound. "_Ron!_" she squealed, letting out a high-pitched noise she'd never heard herself make before, which she could only assume was a laugh. Her entire body shook with laughter as Ron took another breath, his raspberry a little softer as he appeared to be laughing as well. She figured he would give up then, but he didn't. He took a breath and continued blowing, sending tremors all along Hermione's body that she couldn't contain without making strange, shrill noises. She tried kicking and pawing at him again, but to no avail. "Please," she choked between breaths. "Please, I'll do it… I'll do anything…"

Ron sat up, smirking down at her. He wiped his wet mouth on his sleeve. "Well, well, finally earned the snog out of you, have I?"

"I guess," Hermione said dramatically, leaning back on the bed. "Take my body, but please, spare me the tickling."

"As you wish," Ron chuckled. He bent over Hermione and pressed his lips to hers in the long anticipated kiss. Hermione felt him smiling and couldn't help join him, interrupting the kiss with a few escaped giggles. He snorted with suppressed laughter and rested his forehead against hers, breaking the kiss to compose himself. "Bloody hell, Hermione. You don't have to make this so difficult!"

"Watch your language," she murmured, kissing him again. "Otherwise I won't give in so easily next time."

"Doubt it."

Hermione wrapped her arms over his shoulders when there was a knock on the door. No other warning, Mrs. Weasley walked right on in. "Is everything alright up here? Heard a rather loud commotion – RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!"

Hermione would later look back at the incident and realize how positively un-innocent it looked. Ron between her legs, her shirt up to her ribs, stomach red and blotchy, kissing as they embraced on the bed. Upon his mother's rage, Ron attempted to escape the trap that turned out to be one of Hermione's legs and nearly ended up falling off the bed. "Fucking – dammit – sorry – ouch! You okay? I, uh…"

A long rant commenced. "Never, as long as you're under my roof!" "If I ever find you again, so help me I will-" "SWEARING!" "Hermione, I request you go down to your own room, immediately."

Hermione left without another word, not wishing to upset Molly anymore. It was her house, after all, and she was just letting Hermione stay there off-and-on until school.

_At least we got in one kiss…_

**Yeah, maybe not the best ending, but if there's anything better than Ron blowing raspberries/tickling Hermione, then I think you are sorely mistaken.**

**Anyway, favorite and review if you enjoyed! If you do I promise I will love you forever! Thanks again to everyone for your continued support through this story and I promise I won't let you down! Until tomorrow, my friends. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay guys, day six! I think this one's kinda cute… so… I guess just read it…**

**Day 6: Wearing Each Other's Clothing**

A few months before they were to be married, Hermione moved into Ron's flat. At the time, he figured this wouldn't change anything; they'd practically been living together before. They both had the same amount of things at each other's houses; clothes, books (_Quidditch Weekly _magazines), their favorite foods and work schedules. Ron figured there wasn't anything Hermione could throw at him that he wasn't already prepared for.

That's why he was shocked one Saturday morning when he walked into the living room to find Hermione was sitting on the couch, drinking coffee and watching the telly in one of his favorite Chudley Cannon's T-shirts. In four years of dating she hadn't worn his clothing, so what was the sudden change about?

Ron, however, saw this as an as opportunity that he wasn't going to let slip away.

He went about his morning as normal; watched the telly with Hermione, ate a bowl of cereal, and read the _Daily Prophet. _"I'm gonna take a shower," he told her once he'd finished the paper.

"Okay, but be ready by 1:00. Harry and Ginny are coming over to help us with the final wedding arrangements." She didn't look up as she spoke, which was a good sign – she'd be in that book long enough for him to carry out his plan.

He took his shower and brushed his teeth when he got out. Making sure the bedroom door was locked, he began looking through Hermione's drawers of the dresser. He opened the top one and was somehow shocked to find himself staring straight at one of her bras. _Right, she's a girl… _he reminded himself. _Hermione's a girl. Shouldn't forget that…_

He chose a plain white tank top from the drawer and continued to the third compartment down where he found a pair of her shorts that didn't look as though they'd be horribly uncomfortable. He grinned. _Great._

He put the shorts on first, surprised at how exposed he felt in them. They seemed to stick to his legs and were a good inch or two above his knees, revealing more of his leg than he was used to allowing. _Its girls' clothes, _he told himself, holding up the tank top skeptically. _It'll be worth getting a laugh out of Hermione, though. _He pulled the tank top over his head before he had too much time to regret the choices he was making.

If the shorts were too small, the tank top was _ridiculous. _For one, it was obviously _not _meant for his broad chest. The thin fabric was skintight and practically see-through, showing his entire torso. It stretched from his armpits to just below his belly button; down to his waist if he stretched it out. He turned to give himself a good look in the mirror and almost laughed in embarrassment. He had to admit, he looked hilarious, in the most absurd way. _This'll do. Get a good laugh out of her! _

Checking himself one final time in the mirror, Ron left the room. As he'd anticipated, Hermione was still reading her book, though it looked as though she'd made herself a sandwich to go with it. She seemed to hear Ron's question before he had time to ask it. "I made you one, too. Grilled chicken – in the fridge."

"Thanks, love," Ron smiled, bending over the couch to kiss the side of her head. He figured this would get her attention, but was proven wrong when she didn't look up, only responded with a smile and "You're welcome" before she continued reading.

Ron went to the fridge and took out his chicken sandwich. He ate it at the table as he contemplated how to get her to notice him. It'd have to be soon, he figured, considering he was beginning to feel rather uncomfortable in her tight clothes.

After cleaning his plate in the sink he walked to the living room and took a seat beside Hermione. "It's quite chilly in here, don't you think?" Ron asked nonchalantly, leaning against the arm on the far side of the chair.

"I think its fine," Hermione replied. She didn't look up. _Dammit, that woman… _

"Well, maybe I should just put some more clothes on. I don't know, I thought this would be enough, but I guess I was wrong."

"I guess so."

Really? She hadn't even fallen for that? He'd said he was wrong _and _directed the attention right to his clothes. He sighed. _Perhaps it's a lost cause. I look stupid in this, anyway. I guess I'll just go put something normal on._

He was just about to stand up when there was a crack. _That's strange, _Ron thought. _It almost sounds as if someone just… Apparated… NO…._

It was then he remembered what Hermione had said earlier. _"Harry and Ginny are coming over to help us with the final wedding arrangements." _

Oh _fuck. _

Ron stood and whirled around to see his little sister and best mate standing in the kitchen. "Hey, guys," Ginny said, "we're – oh my god, what are you wearing?!"

Ginny looked truly horrified; Ron couldn't blame her. After all, he'd have freaked if he'd seen Ginny in as little/transparent clothing as he was wearing. Harry looked as if he were fighting between mortification and amusement.

"What?" Hermione asked, obviously confused by Ginny's lack of speech. "What are you – _Ron!_"

Ron could never remember being more embarrassed in his life. He was sure he was some horrible shade of crimson as he stood there, barely dressed in the middle of the living room. He wasn't sure what to expect out of Hermione – an outright scolding or just a reprimanding stare – and was relieved when she began laughing. "What did you do?" she asked, barely getting the words out.

"I, uh…" Ron froze. Well, he'd gotten himself into this mess… "I saw you wearing my shirt and thought it'd be funny if I, well, yeah." He said this all very quietly, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile creeping onto his face.

Hermione stood up, giggling as she looked him over. "Not bad. I must say, that style suits you quite well! But maybe it's better if we leave it for when we're home alone."

"Couldn't agree more!"

Hermione's eyes finally rested on his face again. "You should go change, I think our guests would appreciate it."

"Yeah, of course." Ron glanced their way. Ginny was pinching the bridge of her nose with her eyes squinted close as Harry averted his gaze absently, staring at the walls and ceiling. "Be back in a minute."

Was it really worth it; humiliating himself in front of his family just to make Hermione smile? Ron thought about this as he walked down the hallway and, by the time he was in the bedroom, he'd made his decision.

Yes. Yes it was.

**I didn't have time to proofread it very well so I apologize if there are a few more errors than usual.**

** Please favorite/review if you enjoyed! It does good for us writer's… Anyway, thanks for reading and see you tomorrow. :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Well, Day 7… which marks a week… only three more to go! :D **

**Anyway this one was a little difficult; little hard to imagine Ron/Hermione cosplaying, so I just went with the Halloween excuse. I did my best to make it believable so enjoy! Warning: Jack Frost and Elsa start flirting…**

**Day 7: Cosplaying**

"Do we really have to do this?" Ron complained as Hermione fixed his hair, using gel to sculpt it in place.

"You're the one who told Rose she could choose the theme this year," his wife pointed out, unable to help but smile at her husband's obvious distress. She wiped her hands off on a towel. "What did you expect our _nine-year-old daughter _to say? That she wanted us to act out characters from a Shakespeareian play? Or perhaps she would've preferred us dressing up as the Chudley Cannons?"

"Oi, it was one year and it was Harry's idea-"

"My point being," Hermione interrupted, "you let Rose choose and now you're going through with her choice. Besides, we can't really change now. We have only an hour until it's time to meet Harry and Ginny at the party."

Ron slouched in his seat, setting his head on his hand. "I didn't think she'd make me dress up as a damn princess," he muttered under his breath.

"First of all, you're not a princess," Hermione chastised gently. "You're Jack Frost – he's a guardian. Second, watch your mouth. The children are a few rooms away and if they start running around cussing like soldiers I can assure you that it won't be me sleeping on the couch."

Ron nodded and waited in silence for her to finish. "Now, hold still," Hermione said. "I'm going to put a charm on your hair – it'll wear off in roughly 12 hours, but I don't want to misaim and hit the floor or anything by accident."

"Finally got those priorities straightened out, have you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, a smile tugging on her lips. Aiming at his hair, she murmured the enchantment. Almost immediately, his fiery ginger locks turned to a shining, glossy silver. Hermione, who had been secretly anticipating this, tried to stifle her laughs. "How bad's it?" Ron asked through a clenched jaw.

"No," Hermione assured him, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "It's very handsome, Jack. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to make sure Rose and Hugo are ready and change myself. Get into your costume and meet in the living room in half an hour."

He agreed and, walking into Rose's room, Hermione saw her daughter was fully changed and practically jumping off the walls in her excitement. "Ready to go?" Hermione asked and Rose looked up at her excitedly, her wide smiling showing off her two large front teeth.

"Ready!" she exclaimed, leaping off her bed and running over to her mother. "Is it time to go already?"

"Not quite, Rosie, but soon," Hermione promised, kneeling before her daughter. "Besides, you're not ready!"

Rose immediately frowned. "What?! What'd I miss, Mummy?"

Hermione ran her hands through Rose's ginger hair which had taken its texture from her mother – convenient, because she was dressing up as Merida from the movie _Brave_. "Your dress is wrinkled," Hermione said teasingly, pulling on Rose's navy blue dress before tickling her, causing Rose to fall back and scream in shock and laughter. "And you simply cannot go out in a wrinkled dress!"

"I'll fix it!" Rose shrieked. "I'll fix it!"

Hermione, recognizing she didn't have much time, relented. "Okay, you do that," Hermione said. "I want you to meet Mummy and Daddy in the living room in half an hour, okay?"

"Yes."

Hermione kissed her forehead. "There's my little girl! And don't forget to bring your bow and arrows."

"I won't, I promise!"

Hermione, smiling, left Rose to her excitement and went to Hugo's room. Their seven-year-old son, who was supposed to be dressed as Hiccup, was playing with his toy cars, his costume untouched on his bed. "Hugo!" Hermione sighed wearily. "Hugo, what'd Daddy tell you about tonight?"

Hugo looked up innocently, his eyes alive with that rebellious spark that Hermione recognized from Ron. "Daddy said there'd be no play time tonight," Hugo said, "but I wanted to play with my Muggle toys."

"No, there's no time for that," Hermione said, picking him up by his arms and setting him on the bed. "You should've been dressed by now…. Hold up your arms." Hugo, who looked like he seriously didn't want to get dressed, apparently thought better of throwing a fit. Hermione found she had that effect on him when she really needed it but never when, let's say, it was bed time. He held up his arms and Hermione pulled his shirt off, replacing it with Hiccup's long green one.

As she was helping him into his greyish green pants, Hermione heard Ron at the doorway behind her. "Can I help?"

"Yes," Hermione said, relieved. "You finish putting Hugo together – I need to get into my costume and we need to be out of here in… twenty minutes!"

"Okay, I got him. Go."

Hermione hurried to their bedroom and pulled her own dress out of the closet. She had to admit, she wasn't feeling all too enthusiastic for Rose's costume idea, but she had begged (literally _begged_) for her mother to wear the costume, and Hermione figured she could do it… for her only daughter. She set the glittering sky blue dress on the bed and looked into the mirror, frowning and wishing she had more time to fix her hair. _No problem, _she figured. _Nothing a little magic won't fix._

Fifteen minutes, some Sleezeazy's Hair Potion, a loose braid and one temporary color charm later, Hermione was quickly pulling her dress on. She silently cursed at the zipper and performed a handy little trick she'd found in one of the books Molly had given her for simple everyday charms and spells. "Good," she said, looking into the mirror. Despite the basics (body structure, eyes, perfection of hair) she actually turned out as a not-bad resemblance of Elsa.

"Okay kids, everyone in the living room!"

She found her husband and children waiting on her. "That's everybody," she grinned. "Okay, let's all get a handful of Floo powder… you both remember how to use it, correct?"

"Yep!" Rose and Hugo chimed.

"Arms tucked, mouth and eyes closed, don't move," Hermione reminded them anyway. "And what do you do if you end up in the wrong grate?"

"Look for the nearest street sign, telephone, or an Auror or Muggle policeman." Rose answered that time.

"If there is none?"

"Run if a stranger makes us nervous," Hugo said.

Hermione nodded, slightly nervous even though they'd both flooed successfully before. "Good. Mummy'll go first and you two come after me. Speak clearly: Potter Place, Family Access, Grate 2."

Hermione flooed over and waited for Rose, then Hugo, brushing soot off of them as they stepped into the house. "We're here!" Ron coughed as he brushed soot from his dark blue sweatshirt. He shook himself to help clear his carefully styled hair.

A few minutes later, the Weasley's joined the party. It was made up of family and friends, kid-friendly drinks in the punch bowl and a few shots of something stronger if you helped yourself to the kitchen.

When requested by the kids, Ron (and sometimes Hermione) would go into character and pretend to zap them with ice powers. On a few occasions when Ron was busy he would brush them off by looking at them with a straight face and saying, "You can see me?" Throughout the party there were two singings of 'Let It Go' (featuring the general child audience in attendance) as well as one run-through of 'Love Is An Open Door' (with a rather tipsy and kid-free George and Angelina). Otherwise, they spent most of their time talking to old friends and helping themselves to the extravagant feast of candies and sweets on display almost anywhere in the house.

As the clock struck around 8:00, most people started leaving. Some people, such as Hannah or Neville, had another party to attend while others, Luna and her husband Rolf for other example, had to take their two young sons home for bed. After a bit of persuading, Ron had gotten Hermione to agree they wouldn't go home until 9:00; letting the kids 'have some fun just this once'.

Around 8:30, Ron found Hermione sitting on the couch, beginning to doze off. "What's wrong, Elsa?" he asked cheekily, sitting beside her. "Exhausted from ruling the kingdom already?"

"We're parents," Hermione grumbled, smiling . "We're allowed to sleep at 8:30."

Ron didn't say anything for a long moment, and when Hermione looked at him, he was staring at her dress. She started laughing. "Well Ron, I never knew… is this the kind of thing you're into? You know, you could've saved my 19 year-old self a lot of trouble by explaining that."

Ron looked up at her face, blushing furiously. "Er, I – I mean, your 19 year-old self didn't need the dress – not that you do now, either! It's just a… a rather revealing, dress, won't you agree?"

Hermione giggled, shrugging. "Well, it's certainly not every day I dress up as Elsa. What do you think, Ron? Should we take advantage of this situation later?"

Ron's face lit up in a smile. "Oh, yeah! I think we should – definitely!"

"But I must warn you," Hermione said, running her finger down Ron's arm. "I tend to be quite… cold."

"I know the feeling," Ron said quietly, narrowing his eyes. "But I think that I'll be able to help you… _let it go._"

Hermione, contemplating if it was morally correct to use that song in such context, brought her lips to Ron's in a swift, leisurely manner. _I must admit, _she thought, grinning slightly against him. _This situation does have a rather appealing sense of ethical distress to it… _

"_Mum! Dad!_"

Not for the first time, Ron and Hermione were interrupted by Rose. While she was an angel, she could sure be a rude, interrupting one sometimes. Hermione was about to ask what was wrong when she went on. "You _can't _do that here! You're Jack and Elsa! Jack and Elsa aren't together! You can't be too!"

"Just as well, we're going to get going here anyway, so wrap things up," Ron said briskly, sitting up straight.

Rose and Hugo groaned, dragging their feet as they went to say their farewells to Teddy, James, Albus, and Lily. Ron turned to Hermione, smirking broadly. "Love will thaw," he said cheesily, poking her dress gently. "I guess we'll find that out tonight, won't we?"

"Indeed we will, Mr. Frost."

**Um… yeah…**

**Favorite and review if you enjoyed! I don't have time to stick around today so I'll see everyone tomorrow!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Okay, this chapter turned out a bit longer than I originally anticipated it to be. I decided to write Ron and Hermione's first trip to Hogsmeade in **_**Prisoner of Azkaban **_**because, well, young R/HR are cute as heck. :)**

**Day 8: Shopping**

Ron felt like he was being split in two; he wanted to stay with Harry and support his friend, but at the same time he wanted to go and experience Hogsmeade. He'd heard many stories from Fred and George about the joke shop – Zonko's – and how amazing the Butterbeer was at the Three Broomsticks, and how Honeydukes had the most amazing candy.

After it all, he ended up going with Hermione. He wasn't sure how he really felt about this, either (not after her ruddy cat had nearly had its way with Scabbers) but he decided he would be able to handle it. She was only Hermione, after all. They'd been friends for three years. In fact, there should be no reason for him not to want to go with her.

At first Ron didn't speak much, instead chose to listen to Hermione as she told him what she'd already read about Hogsmeade. "And Scrivenshaft's is supposed to have the most extensive collection of quills in the area," she was saying as they finally entered the village.

Ron stared around in awe. It felt like the first time he'd seen Diagon Alley when he was seven years old. It was magical: cozy cottage shops lined the streets, decorated with pumpkins and black cats and everything Halloween as far as he could see. The blistering cold wind was blowing colorful autumn leaves everywhere, bringing the distinct smell of 'fall' with it. A few shops had stalks of corn out front, adding to the wonderful festival feel of the entire town. Outside one of the larger shops was a plump woman, bundled in gear and yelling "Happy Halloween, students! Get your Butterbeer half off at the Three Broomsticks, today only!" Another shop, across the street was already bustling with students, talking loudly as they tried to push their way in. The sign on top read 'Honeydukes'.

"Wow," he whispered. Even Hermione had gone silent, frantically trying to take it all in at once as she glanced around excitedly. "Where should we go first?" he asked her, a wide grin conquering his face.

Hermione shook her head. "I – I don't know," she said, sounding slightly overwhelmed. "It's all so much at once… how about we just look in the shop windows to start?"

Ron agreed that was a good idea and they started on the left side of the street at a shop which they'd seen Neville entering. "Dogweed and Deathcap," Ron read on the window, peering inside. He could see aisles of different plants inside. "Herbology shop. Care for a look?"

"I'm good," Hermione said, her eyes already shining as she stared at the next shop. "But look at this, Ron!"

Ron half-sighed as he saw Hermione had already found the books shop. She peered through the shop window of Tomes and Scrolls, her eyes wide with wonder. "You wanna go in?" Ron asked, peering in beside her. He brightened as he noticed a rack of comic books.

"No," Hermione said ruefully, backing away. "No, I think you would be quite bored with it."

"So?" Ron shrugged. "I'm probably going to drag you to the Quidditch shop later – 'sides, I'm sure there's something in there I could look at."

Hermione positively beamed at him, her buck teeth showing and making her appear far cuter and more angelic than she should ever have been allowed to be. "I'll be quick," she promised. Grabbing his hand, she pulled him along inside the bookshop.

Once inside, however, she quickly let go of him to pursue her leafed prey. Ron went to the comics he had seen outside and picked one up, recognizing it from his small collection at home. "Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle," Ron sighed, flipping open a few pages. The comic brought back fond memories from his childhood; saving his allowance money, even bargaining for extra by doing Ginny's chores, asking for more for Christmas and, finally, walking into the bookshop and setting his fifteen bronze knuts on the countertop to purchase his first book.

After finishing reading, Ron set the book back down and looked around to see where Hermione had gotten off to. He peeked around an aisle and found her sitting, surrounded by a stack of books, a rather large one opened on her lap. He meant to tell her that they should go – they had other things to do that day – but, for some reason, he didn't move. Even stranger, he realized, he was smiling at her. _Why am I smiling at her? _He wondered. _She's not even looking at me! She's got her nose in a book! _

Ron, confused by the sudden realization, rounded the corner. "Okay, almost done?"

Hermione practically jumped, dropping the book she was reading on the floor. "Oh, yes! Just finishing," she said, swiftly returning the books to their rightful places on the shelves. "I'm just getting this one; it'll only take a minute. Thanks for letting me look around, Ron."

"No problem."

The next shop was Dominic Maestro's, a music shop. They went inside for a minute to enjoy the music and warmth before going to the next window. Ron had a strange feeling about this window; it was pink and looked like Valentine's day on Halloween. Looking inside, Ron found it wasn't only the outside. Everything was frilly – the rusty orange table cloth covers, the banners with 'Happy Halloween!' and pumpkins overhead, even the brown vases with themed plants somehow managed to fit the feel. "What's this place?" he asked Hermione.

"Madam Puddifoot's," Hermione replied, sounding slightly disgusted. "It's a tea shop. According the girls in my dorm, it's very romantic and they all dream of having a boy take them on a date here. They say there's no comparing to it. In my opinion, it's all nonsense."

"Why?" Ron asked, not consciously making the decision to do so.

Hermione shrugged, gazing inside the tea shop with a great air of annoyance. "It's all fluff and frill – there's nothing romantic about that. A really romantic date would depend more or less on the person you're with and their willingness to tolerate such a place, if you ask me."

Ron nodded wordlessly, staring in for a few more seconds before suggesting they continue. He and Hermione continued past a cauldron shop, the local Ollivanders, a radio station and a potion shop when Hermione caught sight of the post office. "Oh, Ron," she breathed, grabbing his hand to make sure she had his attention. "_Look…_"

She was staring at as if she'd never seen a Wizard post office which, Ron reminded himself, she probably hadn't. He had trouble believing this. "Yeah, owl post requires a lot of – er – owls," Ron said dumbly.

"Can we go inside? Oh please Ron…"

"Sure," he said, letting her lead him to the office.

Inside was hectic. Owls were _everywhere, _sitting on shelves, fluttering to others, departing and arriving, getting sorted and labeled by wizards, screeching, and one in the corner had even managed to catch a stray mouse. Hermione's hand – now on Ron's arm – was holding him in a vice grip as she stared around, wide-eyed. "I've never seen one on the inside before," she said softly. "It's simply wonderful…"

They spent a few minutes exploring the post office. Once Hermione was satisfied, they continued to the next store, Spintwitches sporting goods, in which it was Ron's turn to pull Hermione along. "Look at that," he said, pushing past several first years to get a good look at the newest model of broomstick. "A Firebolt Hermione, just imagine!"

Hermione allowed Ron several minutes of looking and a ride on the Cleansweep 1005 before they left. "I don't know 'bout you, but I could do for a nice, warm Butterbeer," Ron said as they neared the Three Broomsticks. "Have you had Butterbeer before?" Her silence was answer enough. "Don't worry, it's safe for us to drink. Besides, I think it'd take more than one or two to do us any harm."

He led her inside and paid two sickles for two glasses. Sitting at a table, Ron didn't hesitate to take a large, drink. He'd grown quite thirsty and cold in his time wandering about and the Butterbeer made him feel as if a large, heated blanket had been wrapped around his entire body. When he set his glass down he noticed Hermione looking at him skeptically. "C'mon, it's really good," Ron said, eyeing her carefully. "It'll warm you up," he coaxed, knowing from her bright pink cheeks she'd also felt the bite of the wind.

Hermione breathed huffily and narrowed her eyes at him. "If you're sure…"

"I'm sure."

She nodded. Bringing the cup to her mouth, she took a small, experimental sip. A warm smile quickly stretched across her face. "That's delicious," she said, taking a larger drink. Ron, feeling quite accomplished, allowed himself another two mouthfuls.

Whether the Butterbeer helped or not, Ron wasn't sure, but after that conversation seemed to come easier between them. "Look at that man at the counter," she said in a giddy, hushed voice after three-quarters of her glass.

Ron glanced over his shoulder to where a tall, stocky man with sallow skin, pointy ears, and a whisp of hair was ordering a drink.

"What about him?"

Hermione blinked at him in disbelief. "Don't you see it?" Ron shook his head. "I think he's an ogre!"

Ron doubled over laughing. Hermione pursed her lips and crossed her arms. "I'm not being funny!" she said indignantly. "I'm serious! He looks like an ogre!"

Ron gave another look at ogre-man to see he had returned Ron's gaze with a curious smile. Ron, face burning crimson, turned back to Hermione. "That's enough Butterbeer for you," he teased, taking a drink from his own. "I think it's gotten to your head!"

"No, it's gotten to your head," she countered, finishing half of her remaining Butterbeer. "Anyway, where do you think we're going after this?"

"I saw Fred and George walk by the window earlier, so I think Honeydukes will be safe now," Ron said. "We need to get some stuff for Harry – otherwise I think we should just look around. You wanted to see that quill shop, right?"

"Yes," she said. "And we'll let you have a look at Zonko's."

They finished their drinks and continued to the next shop, Gladrag's Wizardwear, where Ron found Hermione staring past the window mannequins at something inside. "Let's go in and take a look," Ron suggested. Hermione didn't object as he held the door open for her. Inside he found what had caught her eye: a dress.

He wouldn't have thought Hermione to be the kind of girl to get caught up by dresses because she wasn't that kind of girl, but this dress seemed different to her. She tested the light, floaty fabric between her fingers. She looked up and blushed, realizing Ron was watching her. "I'm sorry… it's stupid… I just wanted to see…"

"No," Ron said, walking up to her. "It's not stupid. In fact, I think it's a very pretty dress. What's that color?"

Hermione checked. "The tag says Periwinkle."

The saleswitch, whose timing couldn't have been better, swooped in for her prey like an eagle. "That is a truly wonderful piece," she said, smiling warmly at Hermione and Ron. "We've had a few people looking at it today. Would you like to try it on, dear?"

"Oh, no thank you," Hermione said, blushing bright pink. "I – there's no reason I would need such a dress, but I'll look into it when the occasion presents itself."

The saleswitch nodded and left them. Hermione felt the dress. "Yes, if I get invited to a party or ball or whatnot, I'll wear it," Hermione said, smiling reassuringly at Ron. "Let's go. I believe you want to visit Zonko's."

They went to Zonko's where Ron picked out a few Sugar Quills. "You'd enjoy them," he told Hermione, who insisted that she was in enough trouble with her dentist parents as it was, drinking Butterbeer. "Nonsense, they're great! You can lick it while you work, they're delicious!"

Hermione glanced into the pouch carrying her money. "I'm out of knuts, anyway," she said, as if that were an excuse.

"Then consider it an early Christmas present," Ron said, picking up a few more. He bought them despite Hermione's objections. In the end, she quietly thanked him and took the quills, looking a bit more excited than she seemed to be letting on.

They stopped by Dervish & Banges and the quill shop before they went to Honeydukes, where they'd decided to end their trip. "Okay, we need to pick up some sweets for Harry, or he'll never forgive us," Ron told her. "I've got two sickles and twelve knuts left. You?"

"Five galleons and seven sickles."

"That should be enough for something good. Anyway, let's go."

Honeydukes didn't look like much on the outside, but walking inside, Ron and Hermione quickly realized why it was famous.

Candy. More candy than they'd ever seen in their entire lives splayed across shelves in front of them. Anything from Toffees to Skeletal Sweets, Jelly Slugs to Licorice Wands, Fudge Flies to Salt Water Taffy, all just waiting for Ron and Hermione to get their hands on. "Wow," they both breathed. Ron looked at Hermione, a mischievous smile creeping steadily across his face. "Well, let's get started."

They pushed past several students as they explored the shop, grabbing a Pumpkin Pasty here, an Acid Pop there, three Chocolate Frogs and a pack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Within ten minutes their arms were full of enough candy to give the entire Gryffindor house a stomach ache. They took their loads to the counter and paid for it. "Would you like to try some of our new fudge?" asked the clerk before they could leave. "Free samples for Hogwarts students today!"

Ron and Hermione exchanged excited looks before each taking a sample. "Can we have some for our friend?" Hermione asked. "He's stuck at school… please?"

Perhaps it was only because it was the end of the day, but the clerk agreed, giving them a cheery smile and wave as they left. "Have a nice evening!"

They sat down at the Three Broomsticks until it was time to leave. Hauling their armfuls of candy, Ron and Hermione made their way back to the castle with the rest of the students. "I must admit," Hermione said, "I wasn't quite sure about this trip, but I had a lovely time, Ron."

"Me too," Ron said, flashing a smile at her. "I can't wait until next time! Maybe Harry will even be able to come. We could show him the Firebolt and that pretty blue dress you found."

"_Periwinkle,_" Hermione teased, and they both laughed. "There are a few shops we didn't get to hit," she continued. "Next time I'd like to see the potions store, and the Shrieking Shack!"

"Not Madam Puddifoot's?"

"No," Hermione laughed. "Not Madam Puddifoot's."

They didn't speak for anther few moments. "I had a nice time, too," said Ron eventually, looking straight ahead as he spoke. "I'm really glad we got along today. Maybe we can stay on good terms now."

Hermione grinned at him, her buck-toothed sgrin that made him want to smile wider. "I do hope so, Ron. I do."

**Thanks for reading (again, sorry about the length) and please favorite/review if you enjoyed! **


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay, this chapter's a little shorter because I was having trouble coming up with what to write, but it's done and not half bad, so yay! :) (P.S. Sorry this chapter's a little late today; I had a game of Quidditch with some friends earlier and completely forgot until I was checking tomorrow's prompt! Anyway, enjoy). **

**Day 9: Hanging Out With Friends**

"So," Ginny said.

"So," Hermione replied, staring at the ceiling of her friend's room.

She heard the bed springs creaked and looked over to see Ginny lying on her side, facing Hermione's cot. "Girl talk?" she suggested hopefully. Hermione had only ever put down her guard for Ginny and Ginny knew it.

"Fine," Hermione said in an exaggerated sigh. She rolled to face Ginny. "What do you want to talk about?"

Ginny was now on her stomach, facing Hermione. "Harry and I are back together," she said, beaming. "Now that Voldemort's gone, there's no reason to put it off any longer. I missed him…"

"He missed you, too," Hermione commented, remembering the nights Harry had spent sitting in the tent, staring at Ginny's name on the Marauder's map. "I'm really glad you too are getting along."

"What about you and Ron?" Ginny asked and Hermione shrugged. She didn't know how much was safe to tell Ginny – it was her brother, after all.

"He can be quite mature when he wants to," Hermione finally said, smiling at the thought of it. "Although I can't say I exactly enjoy 'mature' Ron all the time. He's a bit different then the Ron I know, but it is necessary, given our situation. I mean…" she sighed, biting her lip nervously. "We've only just gotten together, but I know at least I'm looking for a more serious commitment here, and I'm glad that he has proven that he can be mature, because it means that he's trying to make it work for us too."

Ginny snorted. "I was kind of asking about the snogging, but hey, if you want to think about the bigger picture, that's fine, go ahead."

Hermione blushed. "Oh, well, yeah… the snogging's… well, good. Lavender wasn't… she wasn't lying." Ginny started laughing and Hermione handed it back to her. "And Harry?"

"Just as I remember, if not a little out of practice," Ginny replied, not seeming the slightest bit embarrassed. "We're working on that, though."

Hermione chuckled quietly at Ginny's tone. "That sounds good." She glanced at her watch. "Well, your parents are asleep and it's about time I went up to bed."

"Send Harry down, will you?"

"Of course!"

Hermione, with a final goodnight to Ginny, began climbing her way up to the attic. When she got there, she knocked twice on the door to let the boys know she was there before entering. "Ginny's waiting," she told Harry, who thanked her as he closed the door. Hermione then turned her attention to Ron, who was waiting on the bed.

"Sending my mate off to snog my little sister, are you?" he asked, scooting over to make room for her.

"Yes," she said, sliding beneath the covers. "Because that we don't have to worry about him being in the room."

Ron snorted and Hermione felt him as he nuzzled her hair. "Ah, yes," he teased. "With all the hardcore snogging we do, it's better he's just not in the room to start."

"Oh, shut up," Hermione laughed, resting her left hand over his chest so she could feel his heartbeat. She loved how it felt beneath her palm – solid and steady; reminding her that she was here, now, and not back in that foul tent, running from her death. "We all deserve a little alone time and you know it. Now, we have to get up early tomorrow, so I suggest we get some sleep."

"As you wish," Ron murmured, pressing a kiss into the top of her head. Hermione smiled against his arm, gently feeling his shirt and inhaling the delicious scent of cinnamon and linens that always seemed to be associated with him.

"Good night, Ron."

"G'night, Hermione."

**As usual, favorite/review if you enjoyed! I'd also like to thank everyone for reading and your kindly reviews – they've made my day many times already and I look forward to anything else you have to say – no matter constructive criticism or a simple 'good chapter!'. **

** Have a wonderful day and I'll see everyone tomorrow. :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Wow, Day 10 already… meaning there are only 20 days left… when did that happen?**

** Well, today is with animal ears so, well… I decided to write some baby Rose. That's about it…**

**Day 10: With Animal Ears**

"C'mon, Rosie," Ron said, pacing back in forth with baby Rose in his arms. "Smile for Daddy, smile!" he flinched as she let out an ear-splitting wail, bouncing slightly on his feet. "Okay, you don't have to smile, just sleep or be quiet or something…" he was met by more tears and crying from the baby. "Shoot," he muttered, biting his lip as he did every time he almost swore. It had become a habit after Hermione told him she was pregnant, where every shit, damn, and fuck had resulted in him biting his lip nervously as he struggled to correct himself ("Shit I meant 'danget'… wait… no, I meant shoot… oh fuuh… fudge. Yeah, that's safe.").

However, his teething daughter was not in the slightest bit amused by his effort. She grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled it out, as if asking him to make it stop. "I'm trying," he promised. "Remember? We called up Grandma Molly a few hours ago, didn't we?" He shifted his hold so he was holding her under her rump, patting her back gently. "And what'd she say, Rosie?" Rosie let out another miserable sob. "That's right! She said Aunt Ginny would bring us a numbing potion -" he checked his watch, "- anytime now! And Mummy will be home soon and it'll be aahhhhllll better."

When Rose continued crying, Ron sat down and set her on the floor in front of him. She let out a noise of despair, holding her arms out for him to pick her up again. "One minute," he said, stalling. He knew that she had him trained; every time she cried or simply asked, he would pick her up (he was trying to break the habit). "But right now, don't you want to see purple dragon?" He set the toy in front of her, moving it with his hands. "_'Hey, Rosie! Why be sad when you can be happy!'_" Ron cringed at his own high-pitched voice. _Bloody hell, it's hopeless!_

"Er… look, Rose!" he grabbed a pair of cat animal ears from the floor nearby and put them on. "Doesn't Daddy look goofy?" Rose blinked at him through bleary eyes and sniffed, rubbing her eyes with her hands. Figuring this was better than crying, Ron continued. "Uh… meow! Daddy's a cat! See? Hiiissss!"

While Ron was bent over looking at her Rose snatched the ears off Ron's head, making what Ron would determine to be a happy baby noise. "Oh no, I'm not a cat anymore!" Ron said with exaggerated horror. "I guess I'll just have to be a dog!" He snatched up the only other set of ears they owned – the dog ears. "See Rose? Daddy's a dog! What do dogs say? Woof! Right, Rosie? Woof!"

Rose made a sound that distinctly resembled a woof and Ron clapped. "Yes, yes! Just like that! Woof!"

"Roof!" Rose gabbled, clapping her hands as well. "Roof!"

"It seems that you've taught her a new word."

Ron turned to see Hermione was in the entrance to the living room, smiling down at her husband and daughter. "If that's what you want to call it," Ron scoffed, standing to greet his wife. He'd hardly gotten to his feet when Rose let out a shrill shriek.

"Not doing well today?" Hermione asked.

Ron shook his head. Rose was looking at him expectantly again, arms raised in an 'up' gesture. Ron sighed, relenting. He pulled her up and set her against his hip, where Rose continued to wipe her snotty, tear-stained face against his shoulder. "The whole teething thing isn't really agreeing with her. Ginny's coming over with some ointment soon so hopefully that'll help. She skipped her afternoon nap, too, so she's really cranky."

Hermione frowned at where Rose was crying, gradually getting louder. "Let me," she held out her arms and Ron handed Rose over. "Hey, Rosie," Hermione said softly, holding Rose in a natural position against her hip. "Mummy's home. Oh," she noticed the irritated red skin on Rose's cheek. "Does Rosie have a yucky rashy?" Rose whimpered. "It's okay honey, it'll be over soon."

Ron – whose ears were assaulted with another scream – felt as if it would never be over.

"Why are you wearing those?"

"What?"

Hermione was looking at him quizzically. "Why are you wearing those ridiculous dog ears?"

"Oh," Ron said, looking up stupidly to realize he couldn't see the top of his head. He hadn't realized he still had them on. "They cheered Rose up. Strange – thought Harry was joking when he said they helped distract James." They both cringed as Rose wailed. "Why don't you try 'em on?" he asked, retrieving and fitting the cat ears over her bushy mane of hair before she could object. "There."

Hermione glared at him but their daughter's racket seemed to irritate her more than Ron. "Look, Rose, now Mummy's a cat!" she said, coaxing Rose's face out of her work clothes. Rose didn't notice.

"Hand her here," Ron suggested. Hermione tried to do so but Rose grabbed and held tight to Hermione's hair and shirt, objecting rather loudly to Ron's attempts. "Come now," Ron said, gently prying the jacket from her iron grip. After an extended moment, Hermione was free. Ron sat down, setting Rose beside him, and Hermione followed suit. "Look at how goofy Mummy and Daddy are," he croaked. "They're funny!"

Rose full-on screamed.

"Wow, you two must be desperate!"

Ron had never been more relieved to hear Ginny's voice. "Thank Merlin," Ron groaned, looking toward the fireplace where Ginny had just Flooed in. "Hurry up, now! Give us the potion ointment thing!"

"What, no hello?" Ginny rolled her eyes, handing Hermione a small purple vial. "Just 'give us the medicine', like seriously? Rude."

"It's been a long day," Ron explained as he watched Hermione apply the substance to Rose's broken-out cheek. "Crying almost nonstop! Wouldn't sleep, fussy about her food, it's like she's some sort of rebellious teenager already!"

"Just wait for the toddler years," Ginny sighed, bending down to see Rose. "Hey Rosie-Posie," she said, giving Rose a winning grin. Rose stared at her as though she were confused. "Looks like it's working – that stuff is great," Ginny commented. "Mum gave me her recipe – said it got her through seven children, it could get me through two or three."

"Thank you, so much," Hermione said, closing the capsule and stuffing it in her pocket. Rose – who now seemed to be in a lot less pain – was rubbing her eyes instead of her blotchy cheek. "We better get some food into her before we put her down," she told Ron. "Besides, don't want to have her waking us up any earlier than she has to."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "Maybe tonight we'll get a decent night's sleep."

"I wouldn't count on it," Ginny said, her eyes widening as she stared at them. "Wait, are you – are you wearing Harry's animal ears?"

"Oh, yeah, he loaned them to us," Ron said sheepishly, not bothering to look away from Rose. "They helped a little."

Ginny nodded. "Well, I have to be going – it's not fair to leave Harry alone with James and Al. See you at brunch!" They shared their goodbyes as she left, Apparating this time.

Ron and Hermione didn't realize they were still wearing the animal ears until later that night, after everyone had been fed and Rose put down to sleep.

"Hey, did we forget to take these off?" Ron asked, noticing Hermione was still wearing her cat ears as she began to take her shirt off.

"I guess…" she said, pulling the ears from her head to stare at them before removing her shirt to put on her nightgown. "I don't know, you look kind of cute with yours," she commented, smiling at him slyly.

Ron, a wide grin crossing his face, lay down on his side of the bed and grinned up at Hermione. "So do you," he said, picking hers up from where she'd casually set them on the bed. "C'mere." She sat on the bed beside him and he gently put the ears back in place, smiling tenderly. "There. Beautiful."

"Really? What about without the ears?" she teased.

"Still beautiful," he replied, pulling her toward him. She didn't object, shifting to lay on the bed beside him as he insisted. He ran his finger through her hair, pinching her cat ears gently. "Y'know," he said matter-of-factly. "I read that the potion is only supposed to last between four and six hours, so there's a pretty good chance we'll be woken up by a crying baby in an hour or two."

"Your point being?"

Ron rolled over on top of her, grinning down at her. "Wouldn't it be a shame to have to wake up so soon?"

Hermione, brown eyes gleaming, hooked her right leg over his waist and pushed him back so he was beneath her. "It would be," she smirked, tracing his dog ears with her index finger. "What do you suggest, Ron?"

"Oh, I've got a few things in mind."

** Anyway, favorite/review if you enjoyed! Thank you to everyone who has already reviewed – I love you all and you have brought light to my day! Thanks again for reading and see everyone tomorrow for Day 11!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Okay, taking my reviews very seriously like a very serious business woman, I realized that it would, in fact, be a brilliant idea to add in a little of that bickering tension Ron and Hermione are so famous for. Henceforth, this chapter doesn't exactly have a full-out argument, but certainly does have that slightly awkward aura to it. Anyway, enjoy!**

**Day 11: Wearing Kigurumis**

"What do you want me to say, Ron?"

Ron didn't look up at Hermione as he buttoned his costume.

"I don't know, maybe 'Gee, that sucks that George is making you wear it!' Or how about 'It'll be over in a week'?"

Hermione, her lips pursed at his high-pitched imitation of her, stared at him quizzically, one brow raised. "I'm not saying any of that. You promised George you would do this and now you're going to go through with it."

"See, no," Ron said, looking up and motioning at her dramatically. "No sympathy, no bashing George, just agreeing with him. C'mon you can't honestly believe that it's all my fault!"

"I was there," she reminded him, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. "I heard you say it. 'Sure George,'" she dropped her voice in an unflattering imitation of Ron. "'I'll dress up in the giant fox costume while Melissa's on vacation, no problem!'"

"I didn't think he'd actually make me do it," Ron muttered, staring down at himself. "Well, how do I look?"

Hermione felt her lips twitching despite herself. "I don't know. Maybe you should do a small twirl so I can get a better look."

Ron glared at her before turning in a casual circle. Hermione had to stop herself from smiling at his tail; she wasn't sure he'd take it the right way.

"So?"

"You could pull it off," Hermione said simply. "But I haven't seen the whole act. Put your hood down."

Ron narrowed his eyes but obeyed, pulling the hood over his head to give himself ears and a snout on his forehead.

"And say the thing."

He sighed deeply. Speaking in a monotone, he said, "Welcome to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Capture the stealth of a fox with _Slinky Sweets, _the newest addition to our _Animalistic Characteristics _Department. On sale for two galleons; limited time only."

"You'll do just fine," she said. She turned her attention to her briefcase, closing it and picking it off their bed before cautiously approaching Ron to give him a kiss. "Have a good day at work. I love you."

"You too."

/

At her lunch break, Hermione decided to check in and see how Ron was doing.

She walked to the Leaky Cauldron and entered Diagon Alley. As she neared the joke shop, she saw Ron standing out front, handing out flyer advertisements and occasionally – as it looked from a distance – signing the flyers. Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly. He always had dealt with the public attention better than she had; said he almost enjoyed it at times.

He saw her about ten feet away and looked down as though he weren't sure how to react. "Hey," she said softly as she approached him. She waited a moment before speaking to make sure he wasn't going to respond. "Are you upset about what I said this morning?"

Ron shrugged. "Well, not really… doesn't make sense, does it?"

"No," she agreed, feeling herself caving in a little as he gave her a strained half-smile. "How about this," she suggested, stepping closer to him. "I'm not going to say George was wrong in making you wear it, but it looks awfully hot to be standing in all day."

Ron put on a purposefully thoughtful look. "Y'know, I might accept that if you complimented me as well."

"And… you look cute in it."

"How cute do I look?"

"For Merlin's sake Ron," she sighed, crossing her arms. "Do you have to be so difficult? You look like an adorable oversized fox with cute little brown freckles and very pretty blue eyes. You look cute enough to make me want to buy all the _Slinky Sweets _in the shop. Is that enough?"

Ron nodded, a wide grin spread across his face. "That'll do," he said simply, handing out a flyer to the next person passing by. "I have a break I can take any time now. What do you say we head the Leaky Cauldron for a quick lunch date?"

Hermione smiled. "A lunch date? Don't you think you're a bit underdressed?"

Ron snorted, straightening his papers as he prepared to go inside and tell George where he was off too. "Excuse you, I'm _adorable._"

**Okay, you know the drill. Favorite/review if you enjoyed! I think the ending may have been a little rash but also feel that it was a pretty good place to stop, but I'd like to hear what you all think! May the rest of your day be filled with only happiness and friendship and I'll see you all tomorrow :) .**


	12. Chapter 12

**Ugh, this chapter took forever! It took me a few tries to get a scenario I could stick with. Warning: if some of this chapter seems a bit weird, it's because I was up writing until around 3:00 A.M. where I had to stop because the screen was becoming blurry. Anyway, I tried to keep it a solid T, so let me know what you think.**

**Day 12: Making Out**

Ron was bored.

Saturday night movie night had turned into a bust; truthfully, he didn't even know what movie they were watching anymore. It was something about a guy following his dreams or some crap like that (just like every other movie on the entire planet).

His attention fell on Hermione, who still seemed interested in what was happening on the telly. "Hermione," he said, but she ignored him. "'Mione," he drawled this time, but still, no response. "I'm not gonna stop," he said.

Hermione was pretending not to hear him; they'd had this discussion before ("You should've paid attention to the beginning, Ron!" "I did, but then I stopped." "And now you're lost." "It was boring!"). _She's going to give me the cold shoulder until the movie's over, _Ron thought, an idea popping into his mind. _Unless I can distract her…_

Ron decided that he would start simple. With a loud yawn, he classically maneuvered his arm over Hermione's shoulders and pulled her gently closer. He rested his head against his shoulder and the side of her head, being sure to invade as much of her personal space as possible. Nothing. _Dammit, she's really playing today… I guess I'll have to step up my game…_

He sat back up and stared at her, contemplating until, finally, an idea came to mind. Reaching his left arm over, he brushed her hair behind her ear. With a rush of satisfaction, he noticed her cheeks reddening. He nuzzled her hair back, exposing the side of her neck. "Hermione," he whispered almost inaudibly, the tip of his nose touching the top of her ear. "Hermione, have I told you what I had in mind for tonight?"

No response.

"Didn't think so," Ron said coolly, his brain running a marathon as he started improvising. "See, I'll want to start with something simple," his fingers gently ran through her unruly brown curls, "such as playing with your hair. You love it when I play with your hair, don't you? Your beautiful, soft, hair that you insist is so frizzy and annoying – you like when I show it attention, though."

Ron chuckled and pulled away. Hermione was staring straight ahead, her eyes narrowed in concentration and cheeks sporting a color similar to that of his hair. "So, that didn't work? Well, that's okay, seeing as we still have a good few hours before bed – plenty of time to do what I want to do. Aren't you anxious to hear what's on the list?"

Silence.

"I thought so." His eyes skimmed over her profile, picking up the information he needed. "Second, I'm going to tease you. How am I going to do that, you ask? It's quite simple, really, when you've snogged you as much as I have." His right index finger issued a single stroke on her opposite cheek. "To begin, you must focus on your cheeks." He pressed his lips to Hermione's cheeks in several small, purely innocent kisses. "Once I've got you all flustered and adorable, I can move onto something a little more daring; something that'll get you irritated but also keep you satisfied to a degree, and that would be…" he bent his head, nose skimming across her cheek as he moved down, smirking. "The freckles on the underside of your jaw."

With obvious practice, Ron sucked on the small patch of skin, tracing where the three freckles would be with his tongue, not too lightly but just rough enough that he felt Hermione tremble. "Aha," he grinned, "but I'm not done. While your freckles are indeed alluring and unique, they are not it – the number one spot to tease you, Hermione. In the end, the number one spot doesn't quite matter as much as how you play with it."

Moving up, he nuzzled Hermione's ear with his nose. "You probably guessed it, what with that brilliant mind of yours," Ron whispered. "Many people do enjoy being teased by their earlobes, but, in a way, everyone is also a bit different. For example, while it wouldn't hurt to go straight to sucking and teasing, the first thing that you want to do when faced with your earlobe, Mrs. Weasley, is blow.

"A delicate breath, nothing too rough. Just like breathing, except a little harder. It drives you barmy. Exhibit A." He blew out onto her ear and Hermione shifted in her seat, her glazed eyes telling him she was no longer watching the movie. "And then, once you've done that a few times," he leaned slightly closer, exhaling slowly against her earlobe. He took it gently in his mouth, sucking as lightly as possible. Hermione craned her neck and Ron pulled his right leg onto the couch, leaning closer so he could easily nip the edge of her soft skin. He drew even closer to her yet, planting a kiss against the end of her jaw behind her ear.

Before he could understand what had happened, Ron's back was against the couch, his mouth occupied by Hermione's as she pushed him down, her hands on his chest. "And you," she murmured between kisses. Her fingers skimmed over his stubble, playing with the stiff hair. "You're not so hard to figure out yourself."

Ron's left hand was on her hip and he grabbed a handful of her hair in his right, pulling slightly. Ron groaned as she bit his bottom lip, swiping her tongue over it as if to apologize. "You like when I compliment you," she gasped, arching her back into his hand which had tried to sneak beneath her shirt. "How big and strong your hands are, how I love the feel of them touching me…"

Ron, indeed feeling the effects of her words, cut her off by pulling her lips back to his, grinding his hips against her. "Fuck," he growled, wishing he were on top so he had more control. Hermione seemed to be slowing down, taking her time. Though she said nothing, Ron noticed she was deliberately moving in a way meant to torture him: right hand scratching along his jaw, left tracing the lines of muscle and bone along his chest over his shirt, kissing him at a slow, lavish pace, her lower body arched to put a slight teasing pressure against the bottom of his hips.

A plan popped into Ron's head rather quickly. If he could get her to let him sit up – perhaps to take his shirt off – then he could push her down and have his way with her. Using both hands he pushed her shirt up, enjoying the feeling of her soft belly and sides beneath his fingers. He nearly moaned out loud when his fingers reached her chest and he realized she wasn't wearing a bra. _I wonder if she's not wearing knickers either…_

Just as he was about to slip the shirt over her head and toss it across the room, the VCR player clicked loudly and the telly went bright blue. Hermione looked up at it and Ron groaned. _So close!_ "I better get that," she said, disentangling herself from Ron and pulling her shirt back down. "It's Mum's and I don't want to ruin it."

She stepped off the couch and knelt down to rewind the tape, Ron panting as he sat up, silently cursing the Muggle contraption. After a moment, Hermione looked back at him. "Why don't you go to the bedroom? I'll meet you there as soon as I take care of this."

She didn't have to tell him twice. With a short word of acknowledgment Ron stood and went down the hall to their bedroom. _I wasn't expecting it to escalate that quickly, _he thought, smirking widely. _But I'm not complaining._

**As always, favorite/review if you enjoyed the chapter! Hopefully it wasn't too much (I don't think so) and now I need to start focusing on tomorrow's. See you all then!**


	13. Chapter 13

**13 Day in… a chapter a day is starting to take its toll xP. **

**Day 13: Eating Ice Cream**

"So, what do you think of it?"

Hermione sat on the couch, looking around Ron's new flat. "I think it's very nice, Ron. I'm actually surprised to see how clean it is."

"Well, yeah," Ron said, looking slightly offended as he sat down beside her. "I mean what'd you expect? I'm not going to live in a pig sty!"

"No, it's just… I remember what your dorm looked like in school." She shrugged. "But I'm glad that you seem to have developed the ability to keep your living area tidy. It's a very nice flat, Ron. I'm proud of you."

Ron grinned, looking as though he'd forgiven her. "Anyway, what do you want to do?"

Hermione looked around. There wasn't really much in there yet: a small coffee table with a chess board on it, a few books on the table (she would make sure he got a proper shelf later), and boxes of products from the shop in the corner. "I don't know, how about we find something to eat? I'm starving!" Ron didn't say anything as she made her way to the kitchen. Opening the fridge she found a carton of pumpkin juice and a carton of eggs. "Okay, we can work with that, I'll just…" she turned around. "Um, do you have a frying pan?"

"Not yet," Ron said. "And I'm not sure that stove works; we'll just have to transfigure something and use one of those fires you make in a jar."

Hermione felt like that was too much work. She opened the freezer, not sure what she was looking for, and found a tub of chocolate ice cream. "On the other hand, this ice cream looks as though it'll hold us off." She took it out and set it on the counter. It took a little longer to find two bowls and spoons. Once she'd filled each bowl with several scoops she headed back to the living room. "Here."

"Thanks," Ron said, beaming at her as he took the bowl. "Wanna play some chess as we eat?"

"Sure."

Within five minutes they were at the beginning of what Hermione thought to be a very promising chess game. "Take his rook," she happily told one of her pawns as she scooped small bite into her mouth. "Mmm, good."

"The pawn," Ron said, tapping the top of one of his knights. The piece obediently went to deal with the white piece.

Hermione set her bowl on the edge of the table to get a better look at the board. _If I use my rook I could get his knight… but then I'd expose my bishop. If only I had the queen out…_

When she looked up, Hermione realized Ron was smirking at her. "What?" she asked, a pang of fear striking her. Did he have a plan? Could he possibly already be beating her? No, he had never been able to beat her that fast before. She still had a good ten minutes until he usually began winning.

"Nothing," Ron said, motioning toward the board. "Please, relax. Take your time. No need to rush."

Something about the way he spoke made Hermione feel uneasy. Ignoring her twisting stomach she tapped her knight. "To E3," she said hoarsely.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, Ron had somehow managed to turn the game to his advantage. Hermione stared at the board in irritation, desperately sucking little bits of melted chocolate ice cream from her spoon. _How? _She wondered, trying to find a move that wouldn't result in her losing one of her few precious pieces. _It's not fair! _

"You can't learn strategy from a book," Ron said as he sat, back against the couch, ice cream on lap, and feet crossed on the floor in front of him.

"Watch me," Hermione muttered, ordering her rook to a suicide mission to take his bishop. It glared at her and shouted a few obscenities before stalking forward and shoving the bishop off the board.

"Queen?" Ron said kindly, only moving to take a spoonful of melted ice cream. As Hermione watched her last rook get punched off the board, she focused on her strategy. _I have to do something now. At least I still have my queen… I can use that to my advantage. Most of his pieces are closing in on my side of the board, which is bad because I lost my bishops. He's overconfident… or he's trying to make this a quick slaughter. He left his king almost completely unprotected. That's it! _

Smiling broadly, Hermione tapped her queen. "G8," she said, and the Queen flew diagonally across the board. "Check."

Ron sat up, spoon halfway in his mouth, looking alarmed. "Rook to G5," he said, spitting the spoon out. Hermione could see his mind going into overdrive, figuring out how he the best way to defend his king.

"Queen to G5."

"King to F1."

He didn't realize his mistake until it was too late.

"_Fuck!_"

"Queen to G1." Hermione said loudly, sitting up and rocking on her knees. "I did it! Checkmate! Checkmate, checkmate, _checkmate!_"

Ron looked as though he'd gotten dirty socks for Christmas. He sat back, hand on his head, looking dumbfounded. "No…" he said. "How…?"

"Eight years," Hermione said, her voice shrill with excitement. "Eight _years _and I _finally _beat you at chess! Yes! Ooh, where's Pig? I need to tell everyone! Wait, no, we'll be seeing them for dinner at the Burrow tonight. Ha, yes!"

Ron was still staring at the board, as if looking for a mistake. Hermione felt slightly guilty. In the shock of Hermione's comeback he'd gotten a smudge of chocolate ice cream on the edge of his lip. "I… never… chess… well…"

Hermione scooted around the table and sat beside him. "I'm sorry, that was rather – erm – well, I was excited. I won't tell them if it makes you uncomfortable."

Ron looked at her, looking as though he were finally getting over his shock. "No, it's okay," he said, giving her half a smile. "It's about time you beat me. Besides, it was only once."

"For now." Before Ron could object she leaned in and gave him a lighthearted kiss. She giggled, backing away a few inches. "You've got some chocolate right there…"

Ron, seeming to come back to himself, grinned mischievously. "Well, you better help me lick it off."

**Okay favorite/review if you enjoyed the chapter… I think it might've been a little fluffy but I was having trouble coming up with ideas so… it works for me! Happy Croatoan day and see everyone tomorrow!**


	14. Chapter 14

**I'm seriously running out of ideas for what to say up here. **

**Day 14: Genderswapped**

Ginny was still laughing as she stirred the potion.

"What's so funny?" Ron asked in what was supposed to be a low, menacing voice, but ended up shrill and high-pitched.

"You two," Ginny snickered, shaking her head. "So, what exactly happened?"

"I told him to grab the potion on the left," Hermione explained, her long, muscular arms crossed against her broad, flat chest. "And he grabbed the potion on the right."

"Which happened to be expired!" Ron spat back at Hermione, his face and ears burning as red as his long, flaming hair.

Ginny nearly doubled over laughing. "I can't _wait _until Harry sees this!"

"What?" Hermione and Ron asked simultaneously. "No," Hermione broke off, her voice deep and concerned. "No we need this reversed as soon as possible!"

"Sucks for you," Ginny chortled, adding a dash of ground unicorn horn to the potion. "It'll take exactly one day to brew."

"That's too long!" Ron shrieked. "We have brunch tomorrow morning and I go into the shop to help George at noon! I can't look like – like _this_!" he gestured to his small, curvy feminine body. "I'll be laughed out of a job!"

"Next time check that the potion isn't expired," Ginny said simply. "At least it happened over the weekend – imagine having to go to the Ministry looking like that!"

"I'd rather not," Hermione groaned, running a hand through her frizzy, albeit short hair. "Well, at least we don't have to be anywhere in public this weekend – everyone at the shop will just assume you're one of George's relatives."

"Fine," Ron said, sounding surprisingly like Hermione. "One day. C'mon, let's go home."

"And do what?"

"I don't know," Ron said snidely. "But I'll be busy trying to comprehend the fact that I've got fucking _tits._"

Once they got home, Ron and Hermione sat down to watch a movie, as they usually did on Saturday night. As the movie began to play, they sat an awkward few feet apart on the couch.

"So…"

"So," Hermione agreed gruffly.

"How do you want to do this?"

Hermione blinked at him. Even though her physique had changed she still had her eyes. They looked wrong – too soft, too chocolaty on a man's face. "Well, even with all the… uh… stuff, I think we should just try to carry on as usual."

"Right."

Ron had to sit up straight to get his arm fully across Hermione's shoulders. Hermione slouched in her seat and tried to lean her head against Ron's chest in a way that wouldn't be painful or uncomfortable for him. "I don't think this is working and I feel quite violated," Ron said eventually and they broke apart. "Bloody hell, how do you do this every day?"

"Do what?"

"Have… well… two balls on your chest? Don't they get in the way?"

Hermione laughed, a laugh that would've been more suitable for Ron. "We don't manage," she said, easily wrapping her arm around his shoulders and pulling him closer to her. "We suffer."

Ron smiled warmly, finding it was actually quite comfortable to rest against Hermione's much larger figure. "This isn't half-bad," he said as he found her heartbeat.

"No," she agreed. Ron felt her resting her head against the top of his, her hand playing with his silky hair. "It isn't."

After the movie ended, they went to bed. This proved to be yet another complication.

"I don't think I'm going to fit into my nightgown…"

"Wear my pajamas."

"What about you?"

"I'll just wear a shirt."

Sitting on the bed, they stared at each other for a moment. Ron appreciated how strange the situation was. _I should kiss her, _he thought. _We always do that before bed. _But, he had to admit, the idea made him nervous. "Well, um…" he leaned over and, pushing his insecurities aside, gently kissed her.

_Bloody hell, is my stubble that scratchy?!_

They stared at each other a moment afterward and started laughing. "I love you," Ron murmured, wrapping his arm around her and attempting to pull her closer to him.

She settled against him, head on his arm and left hand on his soft stomach. "You too, Ron," she said in a deep, raspy voice.

The next morning was pretty normal – as normal as it could be, at least. They took showers and dressed up for morning brunch with the Weasley's (this took a good hour as Hermione's wardrobe was a lot more complex than it looked on the outside).

Arriving at the Burrow they realized Ginny must've spread the word. All the regulars were there (Harry, Ginny, Teddy, George,) as well as a few excited-looking extras (Angelina, Percy, Audrey).

"Rhonda! Herman! So glad you could join us," George exclaimed as they took their seats. He gave Ron a hard clap on the shoulder. "You never told us you were into the large, manly type."

Ron might've been angry hadn't he been distracted by Harry's reaction.

Harry absolutely lost it. Ron couldn't remember the last time his friend had laughed so hard he cried. "Some best mate you are," he grumbled, glaring at Harry.

"Man up," Harry choked, which only caused him to laugh harder.

It took a few minutes for Harry to sober up. Wiping his glasses and taking a long drink of water, he glanced across the table at where his two best friends were sitting. "So, how's it been going?" he asked breathlessly.

"Surprisingly well," Hermione said, causing Harry to giggle. She glared at him. "If you're going to insist on acting in such a childish manner I suggest you and Teddy start a kids table."

"I'm sorry, but you've looked in the mirror, right?"

"Trust me, we have," Ron assured him. "It doesn't make it any less weird."

For some reason the topic dropped after that (Ron figured it had something to do with the pointed glare from his mother when she thought he wasn't looking). Brunch proceeded as normal until noon came around and it was time for him and George to head to the shop.

"See you tonight," he said, looking up and down Hermione's tall, lanky build. _Where do I put my hands? _Resting them against Hermione's flat chest he stood on his tiptoes. Her hands went to his hips and pulled him closer, kissing him awkwardly.

"See you."

That night the potion was finished, and Ron and Hermione turned back into their normal selves. Ron had never been more relieved to feel Hermione's smaller figure against him, nor to feel her long, bushy hair. "I'll check the expiration date next time," he promised her, enjoying the feel of her soft, curvy hips beneath his hands.

"And I'll make sure you grabbed the right one before we use it," she added, admiring his muscular arms.

"Deal."

**Wow… that was a little weird…**

**Favorite/review if you enjoyed awkward genderswapped Romione! I'd like to expand on this topic a little more… I don't know maybe I'll write a separate fic about it someday. Great, now that we all agree that genderflipped Harry Potter is one of the best things on this hellish earth, I have to go. I'll see everyone tomorrow!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey everyone! I know it's late (still before midnight where I am, though) so **_**technically **_**this is on time. Anyway I was having trouble thinking of an idea for this one and then my computer shut off. Yay. So I got it working again. The prompt is very loose-fitting but… well, the chapter's sweet, so I think you might be able to forgive me. :)**

**Day 15: In A Different Clothing Style**

_Dear Hermione,_

_ I'm glad to hear your summer has gone well so far. I wish I had something interesting to tell you but the most I've done is accidentally stub my toe on a gnome. Instead of running the little prick swung at me and got a blow at my ankle. I told Mum that it hurt and instead of helping me she told me to go out and de-gnome if they were bothering me. Honestly! It's swelled up now and I don't think that's good… well, it'll get better eventually. _

_ That Isaac kid you talked about last letter sounded pretty nice – he just moved in down the street, you said? I hope you and him can get along. You sound kinda lonely last letter. I can't imagine what it would be like to have no siblings at all, if I had to constantly hang out with Mum and Dad! Maybe we can see each other sometime in the next few months. _

_ Have you heard back from Harry at all? I've been sending him letters since break began and he hasn't responded. Do you think he's ill? Wouldn't be surprised if he's locked himself in his room, after hearing how awful his aunt and uncle are. But his birthday's coming up in a few weeks and I want to make sure he gets my present._

_ See you soon!_

_ Ron. _

Hermione, smiling, folded the letter and neatly set it on her bedside table. Jumping from her bed, she ran out of her room, down the hall and into the study where her father was working. "Dad," she said, "I just got a letter back from Ron."

"That's great, Hermione," her father said, looking up to give her a cheery smile. "What'd he say?"

"Nothing much. He hasn't been able to contact Harry, either, but I was wondering if we could invite him for a day?"

"Invite him over?"

"Yes. You could meet him. He's really quite nice when he tries to be."

Her father nodded, seeming delighted by Hermione's sudden interest in having a friend over. "Of course! Anytime next week; your mother has the week off. As long as his parents are fine with it as well."

"Thanks Dad!"

"You're very welcome, Hermione."

Sprinting back to her room, Hermione pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill and began to write.

Five days later, when the doorbell rang, Hermione wasted no time. Leaping from her seat on the couch she made it to the door in a few seconds flat. She opened it to find herself face-to-face with Ron.

Well, face-to-chin, to be more accurate.

"You've grown!" Hermione said indignantly.

Ron smirked. "It's been known to happen." He paused, looking down at her in confusion. "What're you wearing?"

Bemused, she looked down. She had on, as her mother put it, her 'summer clothes'. Clothes that weren't too hot, could get dirty, and fit Hermione's slightly tomboyish (or, more accurately, not-so-feminine) tastes. She was clad in a sky blue T-shirt, considerably baggy jeans, and had her hair in a ponytail through a hat.

"Oh, it's nothing," she said quickly. "It's just… well, before Hogwarts… I don't usually wear skirts unless it's for uniform. It's hard to get a comfortable reading position with a skirt if you're lying down or sitting on the floor."

Ron blinked at her – looking as though he wanted to say something else – but Mrs. Weasley interrupted him from behind. "Hello, dear, you must be Hermione."

Hermione looked past Ron and was met by the sight of a plump woman with flaming red hair. She was rather short – hardly taller than Ron – and had a motherly feel to her. Hermione couldn't help but return her smile. "Yes. Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Weasley."

Mrs. Granger invited them in. As their mothers' sat down for tea, Hermione gave Ron a tour of the house. "That's my father's study. There's the toilet, and my parents' room, and here's my room." She pushed the door open and stood proudly aside so he could look in. She had cleaned and dusted it in anticipation for his visit and felt as if it'd never been cleaner.

Her smugness deteriorated when he started laughing. "What's so funny?" she asked, slightly irritated. She looked past him but couldn't see anything wrong.

"Only you would have a wall just for books," he snickered.

"That's nothing." Hermione rolled her eyes, pushing past him and motioning him to follow her. "See, they're ordered alphabetically by author, in order by series, and – if necessary – also alphabetically by title within each author. Most of these I haven't read yet, unfortunately. Between school and homework I don't have much time, but I will have read them all eventually."

"Bloody hell," Ron said, looking at the books with a hint of respect. "I can't even be bothered to organize my Chocolate Frog cards!"

Hermione smiled. "Okay, come on. Let's go to the backyard."

"Why?"

"You taught me your Wizard sport, I'm going to teach you my favorite Muggle sport."

Outside the day couldn't have been more perfect. The sky was blue and cloudless and the warm sun was contradicted by a perfectly controlled breeze. "Perfect weather for football," Hermione commented as she went to open the toy bin beside the fence.

"For _what_?"

"Football."

"That sounds dull."

"No," Hermione insisted, pulling her father's black-and-white ball from the container. "My father taught me how to play; it's his favorite sport. He sometimes goes out to play it with his friends and I'll come along to watch. It's really quite interesting. Now, stay there as I cross the yard."

Ron obeyed and Hermione ran until she reached the other fence. "Okay, I'm going to kick the ball to you and you kick it back," Hermione half-shouted. "And don't use your hands!"

"Why not?"

"It's against the rules!"

Setting the ball purposefully in front of her, Hermione gave it a gentle but firm kick. Keeping on the ground, it made it easily to Ron. Ron stared at it apprehensively for a second – as if not sure if it were going to jump up at him – and kicked it back just strong enough so it made it to her. "Just like that!" Hermione encouraged him, taking a running start at the ball this time.

Within minutes Ron had gotten the hang of it. Hermione pulled out the small goals her father had bought for her a few years ago and she explained the rules for a quick one-on-one game. "Ready?"

"Only if you are."

She nodded to Ron and he decided to start off with a kick. Hermione easily dodged in front of the goal and caught the ball on her knee when it bounced. When it hit the ground she tapped it with her foot to calm it and started running, dribbling the ball between her feet.

Ron abandoned his goal to meet her and clumsily attempted to kick the ball away from her, but Hermione jumped at just the right moment, dodging a hit that surely would've put her on the ground. "You'll have to be better than that," Hermione giggled, leaving Ron behind her as she ran closer to the goal. She aimed, about to kick…

Ron barreled into her from the side, sending both of them to the ground. Hermione let out a shocked cry as she was winded against the solid dirt. Ron's large and heavy body on top of her sure didn't help.

"OW! Bloody hell I'm – I'm… bloody hell!" Ron pushed himself off of her. Hermione blinked dazedly at the sky as she caught her breath. Pulling herself to a sitting position, she found Ron was slouched just a foot away from her, face hidden in his hands and ears brighter than the sun.

"It's okay, no damage," Hermione breathed, waiting for Ron to look up at her. When he didn't she became slightly concerned. "Ron, are you okay?"

"'M fine," Ron said around a sniffle. He wiped his hands over his eyes and rubbed them with his arm before looking at her. He wore a smile that looked more like a grimace and his eyes were watery. "Tripped over a root 'sall. Sorry."

"Okay," Hermione said suspiciously as she stood up. She offered him her hand and he took it. She noticed him put all his weight on his left foot as he stood. "Ron, are you sure you're not hurt? You seem to be favoring one of your feet."

"I said I'm fine," Ron growled in less of an angry and more of a defensive manner. He jerked his hand away from hers. Hermione made the brief connection between how wounded animals acted: aggressive, afraid, snapping at the hand trying to help it.

"Fine. Be that way. Now, where'd the ball go?"

They both looked around. "There," Ron said, pointing at the shrubbery near the house. "I'll get it." He stepped forward with his right foot. Almost as soon as he put his weight on it be let out a cry of pain and began falling forward. Hermione, who'd figured something like this might happen, grabbed him around the arm, using all her strength to keep him up.

"I assume that's the ankle the gnome got?"

"Yeah," Ron muttered, steadying himself against her. "It was just healed up."

Hermione wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Here, let me help you inside. It's the least I can do."

Ron glanced at her, as if surprised. Hermione didn't understand; had she said something weird? Done something? "You're not gloating," Ron said quietly.

"What? Gloating? Why on earth would I be gloating?" Had the fall messed with his head, too?

"You were right. Aren't you going to rub it in?"

Hermione sighed as she started walking with him; one slow, uneasy step at a time. "No," she said. "Even I'm not _that _thick, Ronald. Maybe at one point I might have, but not now. You are hurt. Frankly, I would rather have been wrong and had you rub it in."

They made it to the patio in silence. "I'm sorry if I offended you," Ron said quietly.

"Not at all," she said. She looked at the ground, blushing slightly. "Actually I… I think you were right. At one point I would have rubbed it in. But not anymore." She looked up at him, a confident smile on her face. "I'm getting better. I'm going to be a better friend to you and Harry."

Ron smiled back at her, at least until his foot hit a step and he cringed. "Don't worry, we'll have it on ice in a moment," Hermione promised him, securing her arm tighter around his back, pulling him closer to her.

Mrs. Granger and Mrs. Weasley saw them through the glass window and let them in. There was a lot of fuss as they got Ron situated on the couch, making sure the ice wasn't too cold and that he was comfortable. "I'm fine, really," Ron insisted after the tenth time his mother asked.

"What were you two doing out there?" Mrs. Granger asked as the room calmed down enough for her to be heard.

"Playing football," Hermione answered, and Mrs. Weasley stared. "It's a Muggle sport where you kick a ball around. Ron got his foot snagged on a root and fell the wrong way."

"You were playing football?" Mrs. Granger asked, staring at Hermione with a mixture of pleasure and shock. "You usually only watch!"

"She's really good," Ron commented, fiddling with his ice. Mrs. Weasley slapped his hand away from it.

"Ron was excellent, especially for a beginner," Hermione said, feeling uncomfortable with the attention being directed toward her with a wounded Ron sitting at her side. "I'm sure he'd make a fine player."

"I'd be Keeper," Ron said, brightening. "I've always wanted to be Keeper," he added.

Hermione laughed. "That'd be goalie in football."

"Whatever. I'm good at it. You didn't score once today!"

Hermione hit him playfully on the shoulder as they laughed.

"I'll go make us some sandwiches," Mrs. Granger said, leaving them alone in the room. Once in the kitchen, she smiled to herself. Hermione had always spoken highly of Ron, now she understood why.

Maybe her daughter didn't realize it, but Mrs. Granger did. In her years, Hermione had seldom brought friends over to play, and most of them had been when she was little (or when her parents set up the playdates). It had almost been three years since Hermione had had that much fun with another person her age and with Ron she seemed to do it without thinking.

_I have a feeling I'm going to be hearing a lot more of Ron in these next few years._

**At first I wasn't intending on hurting his ankle but it just kind of happened and I kind of liked it.**

**So, favorite/review if you enjoyed! I'll try not to make the next chapter as late tomorrow and I'll see you all then!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Yay! New chapter! …. That's pretty much it…**

**Day 16: During Their Morning Rituals**

As it did every morning, it was the alarm clock that woke Ron.

And, as he did every morning, Ron shut his eyes tighter and buried his face in the pillow. He felt the bed lurch as Hermione dragged herself out of bed. He reluctantly rolled over so he was facing her back, blinking sleepily at where she was sitting on the end of the bed. "Morning."

Hermione turned. Through the dark he could see her smiling sleepily, her eyes drooping. "Good morning. I'll wake you when the bathroom is open."

"Thanks." Rolling back over, Ron curled into the blanket and allowed himself to drift back into unconsciousness.

It felt like a minute later when he was roused from his light sleep by Hermione. "I'm finished," she said, and Ron inwardly groaned. _I have to clean the Pygmy Puff cage today._ Pushing that to the back of his mind, he got out of bed. The air was cold and Ron felt goose bumps erupting on his exposed skin. He blinked to see dawn light filtering through the window, casting the room in an elegant sort of shadow. He smiled despite himself. It was rather nice to look at.

Ron took a short shower and dried his hair with a towel before putting on a white dress shirt and nice red pants. He brushed his teeth and brushed his hair flat before staring into the mirror, checking if he'd missed anything. His stubble was grown out just to the length Hermione liked it so he didn't have to shave… otherwise he couldn't see anything he might've missed. Grinning, he left his room and walked down the hall to the kitchen.

Hermione had woken Rose and Hugo and the children were sitting, half-asleep, at the table. They were still too young to stay home alone and now that their primary school was on summer holiday, they had to spend the day with a figure of authority. "Where we going today?" Rose yawned, making circles with her spoon in her bowl of oatmeal. "Can we go to Grandma Molly's?"

"No, Grandma Molly is watching James, Al, and Lily today," Ron said, scratching his daughter's head as he passed.

"Good morning, Dad," Rose and Hugo said in a monotone, as they did every morning. Hugo spoke first. "Can Uncle Teddy watch us, then?"

"Sorry, bud, but Teddy's babysitting Lucy and Molly with Victoire and her siblings today," Ron said, spreading marmalade on a piece of toast Hermione had prepared for him. He took a serving of oatmeal with it and sat at the table with the rest of the family.

"Then what are we going to do?" Rose whined.

"First you are going to sit up and take your head off the table," Hermione said in that gentle but bossy manner she tended to speak in. "Your father is taking you to work with him today." Rose and Hugo let out a small cheer but Hermione cut them off. "I expect you to behave like the civilized children we have raised you to be. There will be no fooling around or bothering anyone while they're working. And if I hear that you two spilled love potion or turned yourselves purple again, I will march down there myself. Understand?"

Rose and Hugo nodded. Feeling this was as good of a place for happy news as any, Ron added, "Fred and Roxanne will be there, too, so you can play with them in the back. Be sure to bring your favorite toys!"

With everyone happy again, breakfast went on enjoyably. "May I be excused to gather my things?" Rose asked as soon as her meal was finished.

"Me too?" Hugo asked pleadingly.

"Yes," Hermione said, taking the last bite of her own meal. "Put your dishes in the sink!" she reminded them before they could run off and forget.

Ron finished his toast and helped Hermione rinse all the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. "I have a meeting today and won't be home until late," Hermione said, looking up at Ron. "Now, when you three get home, there's leftover chicken and pizza in the fridge, but make sure they don't get dessert without eating their vegetables. There's fresh berries in the fridge and frozen-"

"You act like I don't know what I'm doing," Ron said, slightly amused as he closed the dishwasher. "You forget; we've both been doing this for ten years now. I think I know what I'm doing."

"I know you do," Hermione said, frowning at the now empty sink. "I just worry. In a year Rose will be getting her acceptance letter and last time you took them to the shop Hugo didn't return to normal color for a week…"

"That's why I'm here," Ron assured her, briefly checking they were alone before wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him. "Because you and your pretty little head worry too much." He kissed her forehead, smiling to himself. "I'll bring them both back with all limbs intact, I promise."

"I trust you."

He'd just lowered his head to exchange a gentle kiss when there was a thundering down the hall and Hugo came flying into the kitchen. Ron looked up to Hugo was waiting impatiently, looking rather disgusted (as all kids his age were by kissing). "Hugo," Hermione said, turning and stepping out of Ron's arms. "You must work on not stomping."

"Sorry, Mum," Hugo said, his ears going red.

"Apology accepted. Now, come here." Hermione knelt down and Hugo obediently let her pull him into a hug. "Be good today," she said, brushing his hair off his forehead to give him a kiss.

"Ew!" Hugo laughed and Hermione made a big fuss about wiping the kiss off. Rose came in for her hug and they waved as Hermione went out the door.

"I'll see you all before bed!"

When she was gone, Ron smiled at his children. "Okay, make sure you've got your stuff ready. We'll be leaving in five minutes."

In the master bedroom, he put on a red tie and matching blazer. He tied his shoes and found Rose and Hugo waiting for him by the door. "Let's go!"

They flooed to the apartment over Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. It had become a base after Ron had moved out some year ago and now served for customers and employees to floo in at any time. Ron had Rose and Hugo set up their play area in the room that had used to be his bedroom and told them he'd be just downstairs if he needed them.

Ron smiled as he closed the door, listening to them talking about starting a game of exploding snap. Walking downstairs to his office, Ron directed Fred and Roxanne to the room and immediately began on his first task of the day.

At least the Pygmy Puffs would be happy when this was all over.

**So, as usual, favorite/review if you enjoyed this chapter! I thought it was kind of interesting… but I always like to hear what everyone else thinks. See you all tomorrow! **


	17. Chapter 17

**Okay, I swear, this chapter wasn't supposed to be angsty it just kinda happened… **

**That being said, this chapter deals with anxiety/stress/panic so if for any reason you might be upset by this… well, you might just want to skip it. I don't know better safe than sorry though. :)**

**Day 17: Spooning**

Nightmares weren't a new thing to Hermione, but ever since the incident at Malfoy Manor, they had been getting worse – worse to the point of waking up in a panic, gasping for Ron and Harry to make sure they were okay. She'd done her best to sedate herself without waking either of the mentioned and instead resorted to watching their sleeping forms, taking breaths with each of their deep ones until she was calm enough to fall asleep again.

It was after one particularly horrible one that Hermione woke up in a full-out panic; short of breath, tears falling from wide eyes, and a scream in her throat. She panted desperately for thirty-seconds, the world spinning around her. Sitting up, she grabbed her pillow and buried her face in it. She wasn't sure how, but it seemed to help, forcing her to breathe slower with more satisfying breaths.

Once she could breathe she didn't raise her head, but continued to cry into the pillow, allowing it to stifle her sobs. _This isn't good… _she thought, looking up, her breathing picking up again. _This isn't normal! I shouldn't be having this much difficulty breathing. Maybe something's wrong. _She'd heard of people having mental breakdowns after being in stressful situations for extended periods of time. Was that happening to her?

Her heartbeat was racing now, lungs begging for air she couldn't seem to catch. She wanted to scream but couldn't, for that would wake the boys. _I need to calm down… _she thought. Hiding behind her pillow, she used it to calm her breathing once again. _Okay, but this seems to be short term. How can I make it stop…?_

"Hermione?"

Hermione looked up, her wide eyes landing on Ron as he peeked through the entrance to the tent. She had forgotten that he was on guard outside and silently cursed herself, realizing she must've been too loud. Somehow, this knowledge only seemed to make her feel even more panicky.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Obviously she wasn't, and he noticed. Taking one step forward, he hesitated. "What's wrong? Are you ill?"

The world was going fuzzy from lack of air. "I…" she stopped. Her voice made it obvious of how little control she had, but she had to tell him something was wrong. "I – can't – breathe." The last word came out as a sob and she cursed herself for the second time that night.

Ron was across the tent in two bounds, kneeling in front of her before she knew what was happening. "It's okay," he said, and her gaze rested on his hand, which had found its way to her knee. "Hermione, look at me." She did so, trembling. "Just breathe," he said, which, of course, made her pant even faster. "No, Hermione, with me. Breathe."

He inhaled loudly through his nostrils and held it for a moment until she realized he wanted her to do the same. She took a breath and he exhaled through his mouth. Hermione did so, forcing herself to concentrate. She inhaled before him and expected him to scold her but he didn't. He kept to his own time and Hermione found herself taking four breaths for his one.

It was a long minute before she was finally able to match his pace, her eyesight and breathing returning to relatively normal. Once he seemed sure that she'd calmed down enough, he stood and sat down beside her, his eyes glowing with concern. "What happened?" he said quietly, seeming unsure for the first time since he'd come into the tent.

Hermione felt her pulse speeding up but took a soothing breath, counting as she did so. "I had a nightmare," she said, her voice cracking horribly. "A terrible, terrible nightmare." She unconsciously glanced at her Mudblood scar, uncovered and stinging where her T-shirt exposed it.

Ron's hand covered her forearm. She nearly complained that it hurt when he did that, but the words got stuck in her throat when she looked up into his eyes, only inches away from hers. "It wasn't real," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle with his serious expression. "Whatever happened, it wasn't real. Whatever that – that bitch did to you, it didn't happen. This is real, Hermione. You're here, and you're safe, and I'll make sure of that."

Hermione's eyes welled with tears, not because she found what he said touching, but because he was wrong. "Don't say that, Ron."

"What? Why not?"

"Because… it wasn't me." She sniffled, her body shivering involuntarily. "It was you. You were keeping me safe and you… she…" Hermione closed her eyes, unable to look at him for guilt. She was ashamed to be falling apart like this in front of him, someone who meant more to her than he'd ever know. "She killed you, Ron, after you told her to leave me alone. She tortured you right in front of me, and I couldn't move. I didn't try to move, I could only stare because…" she broke off, not sure if she should tell him the rest.

"Because?" he prompted softly, his hand squeezing her arm, as if giving her the strength she needed to continue.

"Because you weren't yelling for me," she whispered. She had never felt this vulnerable in her life. It had been his voice that had kept her sane at Malfoy Manor, his single voice reaching from the dungeons as if pleading, _begging _her to stay with him. "I couldn't hear you yelling for me, and I couldn't bear it."

Neither of them spoke for a moment. Hermione's sniffles and increasing breath were the only sounds. "Breathe," she heard him murmur. "Just breathe and listen to me." She closed her eyes and focused her attention solely on his voice. "I will _always _protect you, Hermione. I will _always_ be willing to put my life at stake if it means saving yours, and you're going to have to live with that. You are my best friend and I love you, and I will _always _yell your name."

"Ron," Hermione sobbed his name and hugged him tightly around his middle, burying her face in his chest. "Thank you," she said into his shirt, deeply inhaling his scent. Even around the stink of sweat and dirt, she could identify the smell that she knew to be him – his smell. The smell of linens and spices, with cinnamon standing out. A smell she'd connected to so many memories and thoughts, like a large family in a crowded living room, or doing homework after a Quidditch game. She felt herself relaxing and realized it was him. He'd saved her again. How could she ever repay him?

Hermione dearly wanted to kiss him, more than she'd ever wanted to before. But something told her she couldn't. No matter what she couldn't do that to Harry. Maybe after this was all over, after the Horcruxes were found and Voldemort was defeated. After Harry had Ginny, she could.

But how impatient she was.

"Stay with me, please."

She didn't think before she spoke and her breath caught in her throat until she heard him simply say, "I will."

Detaching herself from him, she scooted further onto the bed and slid beneath the covers. The bed groaned as Ron followed her, pulling the blanket up to cover her arms. She listened to his movements intently and heard a pause – as if he were thinking – before he pressed his body into hers from behind, one long arm wrapping around her and resting on her arm over the blanket.

Hermione closed her eyes, her lips twitching up in a slight smile. It felt safe, almost natural, to have him so close, shielding her as he had promised he would always do. His body heat, warm in the cold night air, was a relief. She could feel his breath bouncing off her hair and could time it with his slowing heartbeat. Combined with his soothing scent, Hermione felt herself being lulled to sleep.

The last thing Hermione registered before drifting out of consciousness was Ron pulling her closer to him in his sleep, his lips pressing to the top of her head as he breathed deeply, the same breath that had had rooted her when everything else seemed to have blown away.

**I tried to keep it as believable to canon as I could because I can imagine something similar to this happening. Hermione is a very emotional girl and, as shown in the third book, has the potential to become extremely stressed/anxious in certain situations, and I like to think this may have happened when Harry wasn't looking. **

**Anyway, favorite/review if you enjoyed reading about Ron calming a panicking Hermione (and, y'know, the spooning) and I'll be back tomorrow with what I hope will be a much, much happier chapter. :) Good day, everyone!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Okay guys! Where yesterday's chapter was a bit angsty, this one is a bit… well, I wouldn't say smutty, but smutty (well, intense snogging, if that counts). Keeping the T rating in mind I tried not to let them go too far but hey, if you get uncomfortable at any point reading this chapter, feel free to skip ahead :)**

**Day 18: Doing Something Together**

"C'mon, Ron," Hermione giggled, pulling at Ron's hand. "Let's go!"

Ron could only grin as Hermione lead him, her hand tight around his wrist, to the door leading out of his room. Earlier that evening, they'd been celebrating Harry's 18th birthday. It had been a blur of food and drinks, so much so that Ron had lost track of how much he'd had. However much it was, though, seemed to be having less of an effect on him than it was on Hermione. Ron wouldn't go as far as to say that she was completely drunk, but she was definitely on the tipsy side of sober.

Opening the door, she glanced around cautiously before stepping outside. "We need to be quiet," she whispered loudly, "so no one can hear us!"

"Got it," he whispered in reply and she shushed him.

The snuck down to the bottom floor of the Burrow and then outside. The night was enjoyably warm, with crickets chirping in the brush and a soft wind rustling the shrubbery. Hermione kept guiding him until they reached the pool.

After the war had ended, it quickly became clear to Molly and Arthur that everyone needed a source of fun; a way to relax and start playing games again. It was this that had inspired them to install a pool. Harry had been more than willing to help financially and, with a little work, the finishing result was satisfactory. Almost every day at least one of the residents of the Burrow had gone to take a dip and, on two rare occasions, George had even left his room for a quick swim.

Ron shared a glance at Hermione and she smirked at him. "Why don't you go in first, Ron?" she asked, her innocent tone in no way deceiving him.

"Sure," Ron said, returning her gaze as best as he could. "I'll just take this off…" he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side. "Wouldn't want it getting wet… and these…" he paused briefly before pushing his trousers down, leaving him in just his pants. He felt his face heating up as Hermione unabashedly took in his exposed, freckly skin. He was sure he looked even paler than usual in the moonlight and decided it would be better once he was in the pool so, without hesitating, he jumped in.

The water was warmer than he'd been expecting. He surfaced and shook his head vigorously, already beginning to adapt to the temperature. He looked back to where Hermione was supposed to be aboveground and quickly looked away as she landed next to him, nearly submerging his head in water. She popped back up a moment later, giggling to herself again. "Hey."

"Hey," he said. Through the clear water he could see she'd stripped down to her bra and knickers. While he had seen her in a swim suit plenty of times she'd usually worn one-pieces, refusing to indulge in the scanty two-pieces other women were quicker to wear. Ron, figuring this was the closest he'd get to her in a revealing swimsuit, felt his pulse picking up in excitement.

"Well, this was your idea, what do you want to do?"

Ron's heart gave a leap of joy when Hermione's eyes gleamed. In the last few months he'd been privileged to find out what that look meant, the look she was giving him as her gaze traveled hungrily over his torso. It meant that he was simply the luckiest git in the world because he got to experience a different side to Hermione Granger, a side that no one else would ever be fortunate enough to know.

"As I was imagining it," Hermione said, tracing her finger over Ron's collarbone with that glint in her eyes, "it went a little like this."

In a fluid movement, Hermione slid her arms around his neck, pulling him into a surprisingly heated kiss. Ron's arms wrapped her around her waist, pulling her soft body into his. Hermione, not wasting time working up to it, opened her mouth and pushed into his, her tongue gliding across his teeth. Ron groaned as he tasted the faint traces of Firewhiskey and his hands tightened their hold on her, which somehow only seemed to encourage her. He returned the favor, opening his mouth and sliding his tongue across the tip of hers teasingly. He pulled back before she had time to react, his lips taking her bottom lip into his mouth and nipping gently.

Hermione gasped something and interrupted their kiss long enough to push him back against the wall of the pool. She gripped his hair and, using his shoulders for support, pulled her legs up. Her knees hit the cement and she arched her back so he could almost feel her hips, mere inches away from straddling his. In her new position she was slightly above him. Angling his head upwards, he trailed several soft kisses down her neck until he found what he was looking for. Pressing his lips to the soft skin just over her collarbone he sucked roughly. She whimpered and scratched at his scalp, her body curving into his as she craned her neck.

Ron shifted his hips and could feel his arousal pressing into her inner thigh. Hoping to distract from this he licked over her collarbone, abandoning the bright red mark he left behind as she pulled his attention back to her lips. She whispered his name, sending a jolt of electricity down his spine that seemed to go straight down to his now painfully concealed erection.

Hesitating slightly, Ron slowly brought his right hand up to cup her breast over her bra. He cautiously traced her erect nipple through the fabric before taking it between his thumb and forefinger and tweaking it. Hermione moaned into his mouth, her hips bucking against him in such a glorious way Ron had to close his eyes to control himself. Her hands were now on his back, her nails digging into his skin, leaving scratches he was sure would take a few days to go away (not that he cared).

"Hermione," Ron panted, blinking up at her through a haze of lust and love. "Hermione, how much further should we go?" So far they hadn't done anything more than the intense snogging and feeling. Something told him that tonight wasn't the night they were going to expand on those limits.

Hermione was breathing heavily above him, half of her face bathed in moonlight and the other half obscured by shadow. In what little visibility the night offered he could see her cheeks were flushed red in arousal, her lips puffy from their recent activities. Her hair, usually soft despite its wild tendencies, was stiff and even more untidy from her jump into the pool. And her eyes; eyes that could hold any multitude of emotion, were on fire, a raging mixture of everything that made her up visible inside them. Books, cleverness, loyalty, bravery, all the qualities he had always known she possessed as well as a few new ones. Love – love that he had quickly realized was for him, and the lust he had become so accustomed to as well. Her impatience was there, too, but, as he realized, for completely different reasons then when she'd been waiting to help him and Harry with their homework homework after Quidditch practice. All mixed together in that beautiful shade of brown that reminded him of his favorite chocolate.

He forgot what he'd said; too busy realizing exactly how lucky he was. She was so bloody beautiful… and she'd chosen him.

_Fucking luckiest prick on the face of the planet. _

"I… I don't know…"

He was pulled from his train of thought as she spoke, answering the question he'd momentarily forgotten he'd asked. Now she looked nervous, uncertain, which was very unlike Hermione, especially the tipsy one he was dealing with tonight. "I don't want to do… that, just yet, but I also don't want to stop what we're doing now."

Ron nodded, smiling warmly at her. "I agree," he said. She still seemed slightly off and, hoping to pull her out of her head, Ron gently bumped his nose against hers. "Hey, you okay?"

Hermione smiled and laughed the most beautiful laugh he'd ever heard. "Yes," she said, cupping his cheek and running her fingers over his stubble in an affectionate gesture. "I'm more than okay, actually. I've never been better."

"Good," Ron said, feeling it was safe to give her a soft kiss now. She kissed him back, more tenderly than she had that night, her fingers still tracing his jawline. "Y'know," he murmured between kisses. "We don't need – to go all the way – to be satisfied."

She didn't open her eyes but pulled him in for a deeper, more suggestive kiss. "Sounds good to me," she breathed, tightening her legs against his hips as she leaned into his body.

And it was then, snogging in the swimming pool by moonlight, Ron felt as though he'd finally figured it out. He didn't need a chocolate frog card with his name on it, or a newspaper that got it right, for that matter.

As long as he had Hermione in his arms, that was how he'd know he was doing the right thing.

**Yeah… I wasn't really sure what to do for today and after yesterday I decided they needed a little bit of happiness, so yup.**

**As usual, favorite/review if you enjoyed! Also, I must thank everyone who has reviewed so far! You guys are amazing little rays of sunshine and I hope your day is filled with chocolate… and sprinkles… and happiness (? its 1:30 A.M. I've been writing for five hours give me a break).**

**See you all tomorrow! **


	19. Chapter 19

**Hello! Ugh, I'm exhausted… but here it is! **

**Day 19: In Formal Wear **

Hermione's first reaction to the news wasn't exactly excitement. Really, she was a bit bored. She didn't see what good a ball would do in the middle of term; it would only distract the students' from their studies! _The teachers think the school's restoration is reason to celebrate, _she figured. _I'm not sure how this got past McGonagall. _

Nonetheless, Hermione knew what was expected of her. As Head Girl, she felt it was her duty to attend this ball and at least make sure everything went over smoothly. There couldn't be enough chaperones, after all. This in mind, she pulled her dress robes from the bottom of her trunk.

The dress she had was a beautiful shade of powder blue, not quite the shade of periwinkle she'd preferred back in fourth year, but enough to have caught her eye. She couldn't quite name it, but there was something about the dress that was appealing to her.

With a little help from an overeager Ginny, Hermione did her hair in an elegant bun as she'd done for the Yule Ball so long ago. She didn't have many preferred styles ranging beyond a plaits and ponytails and figured now was as good as ever to be a bit fancy. "Thank you," Hermione said, smiling despite herself as she checked the mirror. "It's brilliant. Are you ready?"

Ginny made a few last minute adjustments to her own appearance before they headed down to the Common Room and left for the Great Hall. "I heard they've gotten the Weird Sisters to play," Ginny said hopefully. "And that there'll be new songs tonight!"

Hermione, knowing this was one of Ginny's favorite bands, put on an excited expression. "That sounds wonderful! I'm sure we'll have a great time tonight." She didn't add what she knew was already on Ginny's mind.

_How will this possibly be any fun without Ron or Harry?_

She dearly missed her friends, more than she cared to let on. It had been seven years since she'd attended school without them and it had taken her a good few weeks to get used to this. Even now she still thought of them at meals; how Ron always loved Hogwarts feasts and Harry would quickly help himself to seconds. How she would roll her eyes and scold them when they continued to stuff themselves, warning them they'd have a stomach ache earlier. She'd been right, of course, but she'd never mentioned this to them as they lay moaning on the couch, complaining about having one too many pasties.

Shaking her head to clear away the nostalgic thoughts, Hermione forced herself to enjoy the present. She had Ginny, after all, and Ginny was her best friend of the female gender. Yes, she would enjoy this lovely evening with Ginny.

They had barely made it into the Great Hall when her plans changed dramatically.

"Harry!" Ginny squealed. "Look, Hermione, it's Harry!"

Indeed it was Harry, standing at the entrance, looking around awkwardly. He immediately smiled as he saw the girls. Ginny ran to hug him, closely followed by Hermione. "It's great so see you again," she smiled, looking over her friend carefully. "How has training been? Are you passing? Have you gotten into trouble?"

"No," Harry said, only slightly defensive. "Honestly, it's like the school year I never had! All the lessons are interesting and so far no one has died or been in a truly life-threatening situation."

"What about Ron?" Of course, Hermione had been owling him all year, but she wanted to hear it from Harry to make sure Ron wasn't sugarcoating anything.

"Like I said, he's doing great. It's a little weird not having you around telling us to study, but we get the work done. Actually, he's taken over the roll." Harry frowned and adjusted his glasses. "I'd reckon you've rubbed off on him."

Hermione beamed proudly as she cast a not-so-discreet glance at their surroundings. The hall was still fairly empty, but she couldn't see any signs of the lanky ginger she was looking for. "Is he… is he here?" she asked in a strained casual voice.

Harry shrugged, turning to look at Ginny. "We should get some seats," he said. Though Hermione could tell he was addressing her as well, she felt that it would be a burden if she were to hang around. It was a ball, after all, and she should respect her two best friend's wanting privacy for the night. She would've wanted the same thing if she were with Ron, after all.

"You two do that," Hermione agreed. "I'll be walking around. Head Girl duties."

"Are you sure?" Harry looked a little too excited to be disappointed.

"Positive. Go on," Hermione said, shooing them away. "I'll see you both later."

More students began arriving by the minute until the Great Hall was crowded. The Weird Sisters began to play songs from their latest album and Hermione did her best to stay out of the dancing mass, instead choosing to keep to the outside. A few times she was pulled in for a dance, but she never stayed too long.

About half an hour into the ball, Hermione wandered into the entrance hall to check outside. She'd noticed a few students sneaking out and wanted to make sure they weren't getting up to anything indecent. Stepping into the lovely, dark evening, Hermione was pleased to find everyone was behaving themselves. She'd wandered a small ways away when she heard a familiar voice.

"I take it this is my chance, isn't it?"

Hermione turned and found herself facing a tall, lanky figure. He was dressed handsomely in navy blue dress robes with a red tie, ginger hair neatly combed and light blue eyes glowing in moonlight. "Your chance for what?" Hermione asked, blinking at him confusion as her face split in a smile.

Ron gave her a crooked smile. "Allow me," he said, pulling his wand from his pocket. Moving his wand in a small circle, Ron murmured, "_Orchideous_," and small bouquet of flowers appeared in his hand. His brow furrowing, he flicked his wand again until he was left with one. Ron looked up at Hermione, seeming to swell proudly. Offering her the flower, he said, "Will you go the ball with me?"

Hermione had never felt more like a giddy schoolgirl. She nodded vigorously. "Yes," she said in a breathy voice she didn't recognize as her own. "Of course, Ron."

Ron's grin broadened. Stepping closer to her, he tucked the flower – a periwinkle, she noticed with a flutter – into her hair behind her ear. "That's good," he said, entwining his arm with hers. "'Cause I would've looked really stupid walking in there alone." He laughed as Hermione slapped his arm ("_Joking!_").

The Weird Sisters had gone on break while Hermione was out. Most of the student body was taking a break from dancing, drinking punch to sedate their thirst as they reenergized. "Is that food?" Ron asked, trying to look over heads.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes. Would you like to grab a bite to eat?"

Ron nodded eagerly and Hermione couldn't force herself to feel upset by his interest in the food. He was here with her, after all, and that was a huge deal. _He invited me to the next ball after all. I certainly wasn't expecting that! _

After Ron had eaten his fill, they continued to talk. The band started playing at some point but Hermione, too intrigued by their conversation, ignored it. "And that's not even the worst of it!" Ron was saying, talking about his Auror camp. "One day a Boggart got into the storage cabinet and he told us to deal with it on our own."

"That's quite a childish thing for an instructor to do," Hermione commented disapprovingly.

"Yeah, but we took turns going at it and eventually got rid of it," Ron said. He had suddenly grown quieter, his ears going red as he distracted himself with a sip of pumpkin juice.

"Did you get the spider again?" Hermione asked, putting her hand gently over his. She remembered back in third year when Ron's boggart had turned into a large, hairy spider that had even made Hermione's stomach lurch.

Ron shook his head. "It changed," he said simply. "Not really a surprise, considering all we've been through."

Hermione sensed he didn't want to indulge on the subject and decided not to push it. Tonight was supposed to be fun, after all. "Come on," she said, pulling at his hand. "Let's dance!"

To be continued.

**I was going to write further but then I realized tomorrow's prompt is dancing and I wouldn't want to make two dancing scenes in a row, would I?**

**Favorite/review if you enjoyed the chapter; your words make writing into the unearthly hours of morning worth it! Thank you to everyone for sticking with me this far and I'll see you all tomorrow!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Wow, can you believe it? 20 days down already!**

**For this Chapter, I suggest you pull up the song **_**Magic Works **_**by the Weird Sisters. It's a very beautiful song that I think matches Ron and Hermione perfectly and makes me very happy. Oh… speaking of such…**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The songs and lyrics present in this work are from the Harry Potter world, so I don't own them. Unfortunately, I am not brilliant enough. **

**Day 20: Dancing**

"Let's dance!"

Ron smiled and let Hermione drag him from his seat. This was the part he'd been waiting for.

As suggested by _12 Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches,_ Ron had taken the time to learn to dance (and not just the suspicious moves Fred and George had taught him back in fourth year). He'd started working on it quietly since just before Bill and Fleur's wedding over a year ago and had taken the time to brush up on his moves after the ball was announced back in September.

The Weird Sisters had started digging into some of their older songs, songs that Ron had listened and sung along to for as long as he could remember. The one they were playing now, _Do The Hippogriff, _had become famous during summer holidays between Ron's third and fourth year. Ginny, a huge fan of the Weird Sisters, had insisted he listened to it, over and over and over again. It hadn't taken long for the song to grow on Ron and had taken even shorter for him to get tired of it. It was one thing to enjoy the song, but it was a completely different thing for Ginny to be singing it _every single day. _

Ron laughed as he saw Hermione awkwardly trying to fit in with everyone else's cheering and screaming, a setting where she obviously didn't belong. A few people had already turned to look at her in surprise, shocked by Head Girl's strange behavior.

"What's that supposed to be?" Ron asked as she did something strange with her hands over her head.

Hermione looked at him as if it were obvious what she was doing. "They said something about putting your hands in the air like an ogre," she said. "That is the point of this song, correct? To dance like a hippogriff?"

Ron snorted as he tried to suppress laughter, reminding himself that she wouldn't even be attempting to dance if he wasn't here. "Well, not quite," he said, "but that sounds like fun. I think I'll try it."

Hermione seemed confused until the chorus was over.

_"Groove around like a scary ghost-"_

Ron, acting as serious as he could, commenced with the 'grooving' (or, as he figured it looked like, flailing his limbs everywhere). "You're being ridiculous," Hermione said around a laugh, but her voice was lost in the other voices around them.

"_Shake your booty like a boggart in pain-"_

Hermione's eyes widened and Ron smirked. Having already memorized the lyrics to this song he'd been anticipating this and didn't miss a beat as he began to 'shake his booty like a boggart in pain'.

"_Ron!_"

"You're the one who said dance to the lyrics," Ron said in a mock defensive tone.

"I was wrong! Can you stop… stop whatever it is you are doing with your backside?"

All the same the song had moved on, and Ron wasn't exactly sure how to 'get it on like an angry specter'.

They continued dancing in a less embarrassing manner for another two songs until the intro to _Magic Works _began to play. "This is for all our lovers here tonight," Myron Wagtail announced. "Keep each other close and never let each other go."

Ron grinned softly down at Hermione. "Is that us?" he asked, gently teasing. Hermione only smiled as she put her right hand on Ron's shoulder, taking his right hand in her left. He set his other hand on the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. "I'll take that as a yes."

They began moving with the music, rather slowly and awkwardly. Ron could feel his heart jumping into his throat. He'd listened to this song numerous times over the years and knew the lyrics by heart, but never had he really listened to them. Now, with Hermione so close, the power behind the words was full, overpowering even. He could see Hermione growing red beneath his gaze and something told him she felt the same.

_"To hold the one you love… You know you've waited long enough…"_

As the chorus swelled around them, Ron felt Hermione's grip on him tighten.

_"Don't be afraid…. Of being hurt…"_

Ron's heart was pounding in his ribcage. He remembered only a year ago when he'd left Harry and Hermione in the tent. He'd left because he'd thought Hermione had chosen Harry; that the girl he'd adored for three years had chosen his best friend, that he was second again. Even now that fear still lingered. After all, this was Hermione. Why would Hermione fancy him? It didn't made sense.

And he'd left and he'd hurt her.

_"The answer's there… Oh, just look in her eyes…"_

And Ron did, his fears melting away. His mum had always told him eyes were the gateway to the soul. He'd never really understood what she'd meant until he met Hermione. Even when he'd hated her back in first year, he'd always felt as if he'd been able to see something in her. Of course little 11 year old Ron hadn't been able to comprehend the feeling that he got when he looked into her eyes, and he'd lashed out at her, irritated and confused by the way he could understand but not understand her at the same time. He still couldn't, but he'd learned to live with it.

Because that was the beauty of Hermione Granger, complex in her many elaborate ways. Wired so he could only try to understand, and Merlin would he ever.

_"And make your final move… Don't be scared, she wants you to…"_

Ron stared quizzically at Hermione and she smiled shyly.

_"Yeah it's hard… You must be brave…"_

He wasn't sure what to do. Something romantic, he guessed… but he didn't exactly have a lot to work with.

_"Don't let this moment slip away…"_

He was surprised when Hermione began whispering something and even more so when he realized she was singing along.

_"Now believe… That magic works…"_

She blushed lividly as Ron stared at her, her voice becoming a little stronger. She let go of his hand to put it on his shoulder and Ron quickly adjusted, grabbing her hip a little too roughly.

_"Don't be afraid… Afraid of being hurt…"_

Ron's mind was racing. Did she want him to join in? Did she want him to perhaps say something else? Or kiss her?

_"Don't let… This magic die... The answer's there…"_

Ron, adrenaline pumping through him, made his decision. He began singing along, his voice faltering as he was slightly out of tune.

_"Oh just look in her eyes…"_

A wide smile broke across Hermione's face, the most beautiful smile Ron had ever seen. He couldn't help but return it, his singing becoming naturally louder as his attention to his voice wavered.

_"And don't believe that magic can die… No, no, no this magic can't die…"_

Hermione's voice faded away, her smile remaining in place as she looked up at him. Ron didn't think he could continue singing if he wanted to, not with the way she was looking at him now. He couldn't even move, he realized, as they were both standing still now.

Neither of them sung along to the last words of the song.

_"So dance… Your final dance… Cause this is… Your final… Chance…"_

As the final chords rang out, Ron felt strangely fulfilled. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead gently against hers, hugging her as tightly as he could in their position. His nose was nestled beside hers, so close he could feel her breath against his lips.

He'd missed this; he'd missed her. While he'd been at Auror training it was her letters that kept him going, telling him the words he needed to hear to get him through, because it would be worth it. Because someday he would be an Auror, and he'd be doing it for her. To protect her blood status, to protect the house they would buy with their money and the family they would have together.

She was his future – the only future that he needed. He didn't know when he'd accepted it, just that it had always been that way. From the moment he met her on the Hogwarts Express he'd known that she was going to be someone. He hadn't known what at the time, but now he was positive; more positive than he'd ever been before.

But how could he communicate all this to her? How many words would it take, and how many times would he mess it up? He could say it... the three words he had yet to say directly to her. The ones he'd thought a thousand times, whispered as she was sleeping a hundred, considered say dozens, and never said.

He meant to tell her he loved her, but it came out different.

"I missed you."

She was silent. Ron could feel her breathing picking up and he leaned back so he could look at her, surprised to see her eyes were wet. "Are you okay?" he asked, pulling away slightly.

Hermione nodded, not looking at him. "I'm fine," she said shakily, wiping her eyes on her arms.

"Do you need some air?" She nodded and, he led her out through the entrance hall and through the doors. They walked far enough to ensure they were alone and Ron wrapped an arm around her, pulling her against him. She was now sniffling, still trying to prevent tears by wiping her eyes. "What's wrong?" he prompted, beginning to worry. Was it something he'd said?

She didn't speak for a long moment, instead choosing to bury her face against his chest. He could feel a lump forming in his own throat and swallowed it. No, he couldn't cry. He had to be strong for Hermione.

After at least a minute, she finally spoke. "I missed you too. It's… it's worse without you… when you aren't there… I don't know…" she stopped as her voice broke. Her body trembled as she tried to contain her sobs.

That was what this was about. Ron felt a pang of fear and anger at this, not toward Hermione, but Bellatrix. Before her torturing, Hermione had been able to keep her nightmares under control. He could still remember the first night he'd found her having issues; it had been in the tent a few weeks after Malfoy Manor. She'd been hyperventilating and it had taken him nearly half an hour to calm her down.

After the war she had taken to sleeping in his bed. Part of this was because they were together now and genuinely enjoyed each other's company, but the other part was so when Hermione had nightmares he could help to calm her down.

Of course Ron had nightmares too. He would wake up in the middle of the night, haunted by the sight of Fred's lifeless body or Harry's twisted corpse or the sound of Hermione's screams for him from far away. Usually he had an easier time dealing with them because he knew Harry was alive, knew that he'd saved Hermione, but the Fred ones… those were the ones where it was his turn to be comforted.

He'd been afraid this would happen. While his Fred nightmares continued to plague his sleep with grief and anguish, he usually had more difficulty in his waking hours, when the depression would strike. Hermione was the opposite and would often wake up in a panic.

He held her close, letting her get it out of her system. "It's okay," he whispered, blinking back his own tears. "I'm safe, and so are you. She's dead, Hermione, and by the time I get through with them, they'll all be. No one will ever touch you again."

It was a long time before Hermione got it out of her system, but Ron wasn't keeping track. When she finally pulled away from him, wiping her wet cheeks, she kept her blood-shot eyes to the ground. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, her voice shaking weakly. "It – it's supposed to be our fun night and I'm ruining it."

She was shivering. Ron figured the damp night air wasn't helping. Taking off his blazer, he hung it around her shoulders. She gripped the ends and pulled them tighter around her. Ron didn't let go of her shoulders but held on tighter. "I was at camp," he said slowly. "And I was facing the boggart." She looked up at him in confusion. "I was expecting it to be that spider because I didn't…. I didn't want the alternative."

"What was it?"

Ron glared bitterly at the nearest tree. "First it was Harry," he replied coldly. "It was Harry's corpse, but it changed before I could get a hit, and then..." he paused. "Then it changed to you."

"Was I dead too?"

Ron closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. "No."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Then what…?"

He looked up at the sky, his eyes watering uncontrollably. "You were kind of… well, it was like… you were supposed to be dead. But you weren't. You were bloody and bruised and beaten and your sleeve was torn so I could see your scar, and you told me I was too late. That I couldn't save you. And I froze. I couldn't aim my wand at you."

She was silent as he wiped his eyes. "So I'd reckon neither of us are doing too well," he commented with the slightest hint of humor, hoping to lighten to mood.

"I'd agree."

Another moment passed. Ron focused on her; her arm wrapped around his back as his was across her shoulders. _No better time than the present, _he thought.

"I love you."

She didn't make any movement to suggest shock, but instead rested her head against him.

"I love you too."

"A lot," he said.

"More than you'd believe."

A smile tugged at the edge of his lips. She hadn't shown the slightest surprise at his confession; she'd already known. Bloody hell, he loved her.

"Do you want to head back inside?" he asked gently.

She looked up at him, beginning to smile as well. "I think so," she said. "Thank you, Ron."

"You're welcome."

Forty-five minutes later, they repeated the same words between a kiss, promising to meet at the Three Broomsticks next Hogsmeade Weekend. Ron watched her as he followed Harry to where the Hogwarts Express was waiting to take them back. He waved as she vanished from his sight then turned his attention to Harry.

"How did things go with Ginny?"

"Good," Harry said, smiling.

A moment of silence passed. "Aren't you going to ask about Hermione?"

"No," Harry said, smiling smugly.

"Why?"

"Because I already know."

"How?"

Harry laughed. "You forgot your blazer."

**Hot damn… that got serious quickly…**

**I did my best but am not sure if I managed to get the full intensity of the song in there… **_**Magic Works **_**is a truly beautiful work and I seriously suggest you listen to it on repeat for the next century. **

**Anyway, if you liked touchy-feely-emotional Ron Hermione, leave a favorite/review! I'll see you all tomorrow. **


	21. Chapter 21

**Day 21: Cooking/Baking**

"Do you need help with that?"

"I am managing perfectly fine on my own, thank you," Hermione retorted as she mixed flour with salt and baking soda, her face set in a deep scowl.

She didn't have to turn around to know Ron's reaction. He would've crossed his arms over his chest, looking offended. "What's got your knickers in a twist?"

"You!" Hermione hissed. "'Why don't we just buy the cake? It'll be easier!'" she added in a rude imitation of him.

She heard him sigh deeply, obviously choosing his words very carefully. "And why did that upset you?" She could hear the longing in his voice; longing to comment sarcastically and start a small row that would last for a short five minutes. This made her angrier.

"Because, Ron, this is Rose's first birthday! We should make it special!" She mixed the dry ingredients so aggressively that flour spilled out.

"Okay, let's calm down," Ron suggested, taking a step forward to put his hand on her arm and halting her murder of the now thoroughly mixed powder. "I get that it's her first birthday and understand how important this is, but will you kindly explain to me why this involves making a cake from scratch."

Hermione huffed and turned to him, her eyes narrow. "It just… it makes it feel more official," she explained, crossing her arms. "And will show that we love our daughter… and that just because there's going to be a new baby we don't love her any less." She turned around and began stirring unnecessarily. "I'm not going to let our daughter stand in the new baby's shadow," she growled, pushing the flour bowl aside and pulling out a larger bowl, beginning to add sugar.

"Of course that won't happen!" Ron groaned, as if it were the most obvious thing he'd ever said. "Why have you gotten it all up in your head that Rose will feel any less important when the he comes along?"

"Because he's already taking over," Hermione said as she cracked a few eggs, having to pick the shell out of the batter because she cracked them too hard. "Everything is already about him. We're looking for boy clothes and painting his room and asking Harry and Ginny for advice. Even on her birthday we have an appointment with the doctor! We have to put a time on her party because of him, and if making this cake will start prove we aren't favoring him, I'm going to do it."

"Hermione, slow down," Ron said. She felt his hands on her shoulders and continued to stir. He pushed the bowl away from her and she glared ahead at the wall, refusing to acknowledge him. "Take a breath." She exhaled snottily. "We're not favoring the new baby over Rose."

"But-"

"No," he said calmly. "We're being cautious, which is the smart thing to do. Remember when we had Rose?" She did. Rose had been four weeks early. While she'd proven to be healthy and could go home after a few days, she had given them both quite a scare. "After what we've both been through, it's only safe to be careful. Of course we're showing him extra attention now. It'll be the same when he's born, but that's because he needs it, not because we favor him. It's not a preference between chocolate and vanilla cake, Hermione, it's two of the same, delicious cakes. And if one cake is still in the oven while the other is already cooling, it's only logical to be watching the one in the oven closer, at least until it's cooled too."

Hermione snorted. "I cannot believe you just made an analogy comparing our children to cake."

Ron rested his hands over her belly, which currently looked more like she had a binge eating problem than a baby bump. "Not just any cake," he said, his fingers sliding against the fabric of her shirt. "Two equally delicious chocolate cakes with raspberry filling and vanilla frosting, decorated with sprinkles and those amazing little sugar candies on top!" Hermione smiled and tried to suppress her laughter, ending up with an awkward giggle instead. "But," he said, serious again, "as bad as we feel about not decorating the first cake quickly, we also need to make sure the second cake doesn't burn."

"I guess you have a point," Hermione admitted, knowing he was smiling behind her back. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, but I would like to make this cake anyway because I can."

"Okay, then," Ron said, releasing her. "But I'm going to help you. You shouldn't put so much stress on yourself, making a cake without any help!"

Hermione laughed as Ron took the sugar bowl and began beating the mixture. "If you insist," she said, adding the butter and vanilla as he stirred. "But don't expect me to let you do all the work."

"Of course not!" he said. "You have a very important job; you can add in the flour while I'm mixing."

She did and, together, they mixed the batter and put it in the cake pan, setting it in the oven to bake for half an hour. "Thank you, Ron," she said, smiling at him. "This is very important to me and I appreciate your help."

"That's what I'm here for," Ron said, kissing her quickly on the cheek. "I mean, at least until the baby's born. Then I'm back to sarcastic comments and smartass jokes."

"I almost miss you," Hermione said with an exaggerated dreamy sigh, her hands unconsciously finding their way to her stomach.

Ron put his hands over hers. "Five more months," he promised. "Then I'll be the most irritating husband in the world."


	22. Chapter 22

**Hello! I have a rather large note at the end of the story so I feel that right now is the best time for this:**

**I would like to thank every single one of you who has reviewed, especially my consistent reviewers (**_**rhmac12, wisegirl416,**_** and**_** LitEnthused**_**) and everyone else who has stuck with me this far! Even if I didn't mention you every review counts and I love you all for it. :) **

**Please favorite/review if you enjoy this chapter!**

**Day 22: In Battle Side-by-Side**

There was a loud thud as Harry fell to the ground next to Ron, his breath billowing in the air and his eyes wide with panic behind his charmed, fogless glasses. "They've got us surrounded," he gasped, shaking his head and dusting Ron in a thin layer of frost that had settled in his hair. "There's no way out."

"No way? Are you sure?" Ron asked, glancing nervously toward Hermione who was crouching a few feet in front of him. She was leaning against a makeshift wall, fashioned hurriedly out of snow. She had her mittens to her mouth and was blowing warm air onto them, trying to warm herself.

"Afraid so," Harry said, frowning as he tried to peek over the snow wall they were crouched behind. As soon as he did so he immediately ducked down again, just in time to miss several flashes of white pass by his head. "They have size advantage; too many of them. The only way we might have a chance is if we were to get in there," he used his gloves to draw two circles in the snow. He drew a line connecting the circles. "And destroy their base. If we had one person to distract them, another to make sure our base is safe, and the other get to their base and destroy it, I think it would work, but I'm not sure. There's a lot of luck riding on it, but it's our only option."

Just then, Ginny skidded in between the two snow walls. "What'd I miss?" she panted.

"We've got a plan," Ron said, glancing gratefully at Harry. "Ginny, we need you to run out there and distract them. Can you do that?"

Ginny nodded.

"Good. Harry, Hermione, you two will stay back here and keep them from attacking base while I sneak into enemy territory and-"

"I'm not letting you go alone!" Hermione said sharply, fixing him in a stern glare.

"Yes, you are," he said calmly. "My chances of sneaking in there are bette-"

"Hopeless," she countered. "You're tall and your hair stands out sorely against the snow. If I could come with you and act as your defense we could make it there together."

Ron scowled in thought. "Fine," he said after a moment's hesitation. "But, in that case, I'm protecting you. No buts." Hermione opened her mouth and Ron interrupted. "No buts. I will not let you put yourself at risk for me."

Hermione closed her mouth, her narrowed eyes telling him all he needed to hear.

"Great," Harry said. "Now that that's settled, I believe that's your cue, Ginny."

Ginny gave him a smirk and a peck on the lips. "See you on the other side," she said as she ran out of the safety of the walls, yelling inarticulately for everyone to look at her.

Ron peeked over to see that, as they'd planned, the other team's full concentration was on Ginny. "Let's go before they figure us out," Ron said. "Good luck, Harry."

"And you, Ron."

Grabbing Hermione's hand, Ron led her out from behind the safe zone. He could hear shouts and screams from where Ginny was being attacked and forced himself to look straight ahead. "Just over this ridge," he said, his pace picking up to a comfortable jog.

Once they reached the top of the hill they could see it; a poorly fashioned snow fort. Standing before it were two guards. "We should've known," Ron sighed from where he and Hermione were crouching in the snow, hidden from view. "I knew they were smart, but I didn't expect…"

There was a shot of red sparks from overhead and Ron stopped. Ginny had fallen. It was only a matter of time before they were found.

"I'll distract them," Hermione said, looking at Ron, her brown eyes blazing with determination. "I'll distract them and you go in for the kill."

"Are you sure?" Ron asked, painfully aware of the sound of thundering footsteps becoming louder. "It'll be dangerous, Hermione, you have to promise to protect yourself. If anything were to happen to you…"

Hermione cut him off, cupping his face in her hands and kissing him fully on the lips. "Don't say that," she whispered, her hat-covered forehead against his. "I'll be fine, just get in there and get the job done."

Ron stared at her, afraid of what might await them on the other side of all of this. Just the thought of her lying on the ground, her motionless body covered in snow… he didn't want to think about it.

"Be safe," he murmured, kissing the top of her nose. "I love you."

"I love you more."

Ron's eyes hardened but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I love you most."

And Hermione ran out. As expected the guards' attention immediately turned to her. "Hey!" the larger of the two said, rolling a good-sized snowball between his gloved hands. "How'd you get here?"

Hermione stopped, about ten feet away, and crossed her arms, smirking at them. "I'm too fast for you," she said in a rather childish manner. Ron had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing.

"Nuh uh!" said the smaller of the guards, who was only a little taller than Hermione's waist. "We're faster!"

"Prove it," Hermione laughed, skipping away. Taking the bait, both guards began running after Hermione.

Ron was about to make his move when he saw a sight that stopped him cold. Crossing the ridge a good twenty feet from him were two more enemies who had apparently been sent back upon realizing there was trouble. Ron pulled out his wand, frowning severely. When it came down between defeating the other team and saving Hermione, he figured Harry could hold the others off a bit longer.

Hermione had just seen the other two and the panic was evident on her face, even from as far back as Ron was. They were closing in on her, balls of snowy ammo in hand, looking quite smug. "OI!" Ron bellowed at the top of his lungs, causing two of the enemies' heads to snap in his direction. "IT'S ME YOU'RE LOOKIN' FOR! OVER HERE YOU BUNCH 'O PEA BRAINS!"

His insult wasn't exactly witty, but it seemed to do the trick.

Four very small, very angry enemies were now sprinting toward him. Ron knew that, while they would have the energy/tight spaces advantage, they couldn't catch him if he ran in a straight line, and they couldn't defeat him if they couldn't get him down.

Taking off he ran along the top of the ridge, realizing all too late what should've been painfully obvious. While he could outrun them for some time, there was no way he was going to be able to out-energy the little bastards.

"Go!" he cried as a snowball whizzed past his head, throwing him off for a second. He focused his entire attention on running. He had to keep going, no matter what…

He'd made a large circle back and was losing his lead when he saw Hermione busy at work, her wand swishing and waving as she fashioned several perfectly shaped snowballs. "Throw them!" Ron groaned. "Merlin's pants Hermione, throw them!"

With a flick of her wand, four snowballs flew, one for each enemy. Ron ducked as one nearly took his head and heard four yelps as the pursuers were hit. "Thanks!" he panted, coming to a stop beside her. "Guess I'm not as young as I once was…"

Hermione looked about to say something when the first guard, still the largest, came running at them. Ron, taking one of the snowballs Hermione had prepared, threw it at him. It whizzed past his ear, distracting him, and Ron swooped, gently pushing him over so he fell into the snow.

"Gotcha."

Red sparks flew up, but Ron didn't have time to relish in his victory as he was hit square in the jaw by a snowball. The cold burned his skin and he turned, ready to strike down the offender, when he found himself face-to-face with a girl, just as tall as him when he was crouched down to attack the first guard.

"Ron, snap out of it!" Hermione shouted, but it was too late. The girl, a toothy-grin stretched across her face, glanced at the smallest boy in the group and, without warning, Ron was shoved into the soft snow.

He could see his own red sparks blazing in the sky as he lay, motionless, on his back. "Ron!" he heard Hermione yell, but he didn't move, knowing it was against the rules to do so.

He could only smile as he watched her snowballs fly at the enemies and Hermione took on the smallest boy, picking him up underneath the arms and laying him on the ground. Red sparks shot up and the other two enemies – the girl and the medium boy – ran off toward their fort, looking to protect it. Hermione, in the brief pause, bent over Ron's still figure. "I'm sorry," she whispered, running her mitten over his jaw. "I couldn't save you…"

"It's okay," Ron murmured weakly. "You were brilliant, Hermione. I was just too slow…"

"Don't say that," she said sternly, looking down at him sorrowfully. "You were wonderful too, Ron. No one could've done it better."

He reached for her hand and set it over his chest where he knew his heart was. "Promise me, Hermione," he said, making his voice purposefully hoarse. "That when I'm gone… you'll be happy. Do whatever it takes. Remarry after an acceptable amount of years and tell our… our children what an amazing, badass, mega-awesome wizard their father was."

Hermione's lips twitched. "I will never remarry," she said dramatically. "You were the one for me, Ron, but I promise that your legacy will never die."

"I love you."

She kissed him gently. "I love you most," she said, and he felt her smirk against him.

She stood to turn around and Ron sat up half-way. "Oh, and when you're telling our kids about me," he added, making her look back. "Don't forget 'sexy' as well."

"I won't," she added, an odd twinkle in her eye. "Now I must go avenge your death."

"I always knew you would."

Before she was out of sight, however, red sparks flew, then blue ones. Teddy Lupin's magnified voice rang out. "Lily Potter singlehandedly destroys the adult base; kids win!"

There was a loud cheering and James and Hugo sat up, shaking snow from their hats. "Sorry, Dad," Hugo said in his innocent six-year-old voice.

"It's okay, Hugh," Ron said, sitting up and stretching his back. "It had to be done. And that was a nice aim you had there, James."

"Thanks, Uncle Ron," James said, grinning that mischievous grin of his. "I've been practicing on Al… don't tell Dad."

Ron was shaking the snow off when Hermione, Rose, and Albus joined them. "Glad to see you up again," Hermione said, kissing Ron's cheek. Ron would've kissed her back, but decided against it when he noticed the children looking awkwardly away.

Ginny came a minute later followed by Teddy, who had acted as the referee. "What a game!" he howled, jumping off his broomstick where he'd been monitoring the game from above. He shook the ice out of his blue hair and laughed as the kids attacked him in a hug. "Thanks, but the real star is over there," he said, pointing to where Harry had appeared over the ridge, carrying Lily on his shoulders.

Harry let Lily climb off him and went red beneath the glares of his teammates. "What?" he asked.

"One kid," Ron said. "Blimey, Hermione and I had two at a time!"

"I had four!" Ginny added indignantly.

"And you couldn't handle one," Hermione finished.

"Look at her," Harry said, motioning to where Lily was now being adored by her brothers and cousins. "How could I attack that?"

Ron bit back a remark, realizing that he couldn't say anything against his friend. He, too, had frozen when faced by his children, hadn't he? "I see your point," he said, patting Harry's shoulder. "All's forgiven. I mean, I now owe Hugo a new broomstick-"

"_What?!_"

"-but we all make mistakes, don't we?" He could feel Hermione's glare on the back of his neck and felt himself becoming even redder than he already was. "I think that the big thing about things like this…" he put his hands on Harry's shoulders, leading him toward the house, "is _forgiving, _right, uh, honey?"

"You can honey me all you want, Ronald," Hermione sniffed, her arms crossed as she followed them. "But you are _not _buying our son a real broomstick!"

"Aw c'mon, Hermione, he won't ride it 'till he's older and I'll be there when he does, of course-"

"But he's got yoursense of – how to put it lightly? – rebellious habits, Ron. How are we to know he won't sneak out to the shed in the middle of the night and break his arm trying to fly it?"

"Easy, I'll charm the shed. Nothing a simple locking spell can't handle."

Hermione's icy stare didn't waver. Ron sighed. He'd have to find another way to get Hugo a broomstick.

**I don't know that was a little weird but they deserved some fun :)**

**Anyway, down to serious business. **

**With eight days to go on this challenge I am both shocked and pleased to say that I haven't missed a single day yet, but I'm afraid it's going to be getting harder from here.**

**Starting tomorrow, I have band camp for the week. This is, basically, 12 hours of being at band for five days. Now, despite the fact that I'll be away from the computer/wifi for this ungodly amount of time, I am determined to finish this challenge without missing a day. **

**So, in short, the chapters will either be coming up before I leave (early in the morning) or when I get home (later in the night). At this point I would like to plea your mercy. My writing time will be restricted to when I get home (about 9:00 PM) to whenever I finish a chapter (which, hopefully, I can manage about 12:00 PM) to post the next day.**

** If, in the following days, my work becomes slightly more lazy or typo-ridden, it is because I am trying to fit in at least six hours of sleep and/or I am exhausted from the sheer act of keeping my eyelids open after the blissful torture of band camp. **

** Thank you for your consideration in this coming week and once again thank you to all of you who have liked this story. Please consider leaving a review (they will probably help a lot) and I'll see everyone either really early or really late tomorrow! :)**


	23. Chapter 23

**Ah, a trademark Ron and Hermione chapter! I must say, I didn't feel up for anything too serious (nor could I think of anything) so I ended up with this (I mean Hermione's seriously pissed so I guess that counts).**

**Day 23: Arguing **

Hermione was mad.

No, not mad. That wasn't the right word; she was outright furious.

She stood at the entrance to the living room, her arms crossed, glaring at her husband with the most menacing, murderous glare she could manage. He was crouched on the floor beside Hugo, their nine-year-old son excitedly petting a small, black puppy. Ron seemed to be deliberately avoiding her gaze.

"Can I name him, Mum?" Hugo asked excitedly as the puppy tried to lick his cheek. "_Pleeeaassseeee…."_

Hermione didn't answer, instead tapped her foot. "Ronald," she said in a tight, strained voice. "Ronald, can I speak to you for a moment?"

Ron's ear tips went pink and he still didn't look at her. "Sure. What is it, honey?"

He usually only pulled 'honey' out when he knew he was in trouble. "In our room," she said curtly. "I'd like to speak to you for a moment in our room."

Ron nodded and stood up, still watching Hugo. "Why don't you watch the puppy while we're in the other room, Hugh?"

"Okay!" Hugo exclaimed, standing up and smiling as the puppy jumped on his leg to nip at the end of his shirt. "I'll see if he wants to play with my football!" Hugo said, running off down the hall to his room, laughing as the puppy kept up.

Ron was still staring after him, stalling. Grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, Hermione pulled him toward their bedroom. "Ow, Hermione! No need to make such a fuss… I was coming anyway…"

Hermione pushed him inside and locked and silenced the room before turning to her husband, hands on hips and lips pursed. "Explain," she said sharply, tapping her fingers against the hem of her work robes.

Ron put up his defenses but still seemed to not realize exactly how angry his wife was. "Hugo and I were coming home your parents' house. When we got to our Apparation point there was a box at the edge of the Alley that said 'Free Puppy' and you know I couldn't just leave him there!"

"For six years," Hermione started, hardly waiting for him to finish, "I have said the same thing. No dog. We have two cats, Ron. How do you think Crookshanks and Tessa are going to take this? Crookshanks is 45, not exactly in his prime. We even let Rose name the family owl!" she motioned to the Fleck, the great grey owl, who was now perched on their windowsill, staring quizzically into the bedroom.

"What was I supposed to do then?" Ron asked. "What would Hugo think of me if I just left the puppy on the curb? I couldn't! Besides, now that Rose has gone off to Hogwarts he needs someone to play with and maybe a dog will help. It can be his dog; his responsibility."

"And what about when he goes to Hogwarts?" Hermione retorted. "Cats, rats, and owls, no dogs! Then we have to take care of it."

"I don't know, Hermione, why don't you just give _him _a chance," Ron yelled, looking angry. "_He _has done nothing but be friendly since I brought _him _into this house. Who knows? Maybe _he _is just what Hugo needs!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "We can't keep the dog."

"Fine, then you go out there and tell Hugo."

"No, you will do it. It is your fault that dog is in our house."

"And what am I supposed to do that? Do you know how heartbroken Hugo will be?"

"Then give it to Harry!" Hermione yelled in exasperation. "Who knows, maybe Teddy wants it! But we – can't – keep – it."

"Why not?" Ron bellowed. "Why the hell not, Hermione? We both have steady incomes. For fucks sake, I co-own the most famous joke shop in the wizarding world! You are the smartest witch the ministry has ever seen!"

"There's no room!"

"The kitchen," Ron countered. "Put his bowl in the kitchen. He can sleep on the couch or in Hugo's room."

Hermione's nostrils flared and she pointed her finger into Ron's chest, jabbing with each point she made. "It will shed-"

"No more than Crookshanks."

"It will pee-"

"Not once we housebreak him."

"It will need training-"

"Hugo will have fun with that."

"It will need exercise-"

"Hugo's dog!"

She took a step back. "And what if Hugo doesn't hold up his end of the deal?" Hermione asked coldly. "What then?"

"Then I'll take care of him," Ron promised, a glint of hope in his eyes.

Hermione's scowl deepened. "One week," she said. "I will give you one week to prove you can take care of that thing. If you can't, it will be out of this house before you can say 'Quidditch'!"

They left the room, Hermione fuming and Ron smirking, to find Hugo was sitting in the living room, the dog on his lap while Crookshanks and Tessa stared at the boys from a distance of ten feet. The pup was wagging his tail and yipping at them excitedly. Crookshanks looked how Hermione felt but Tessa, her ears perked at attention, was carefully edging closer.

Hermione watched as Tessa – her sleek brown fur puffed out and her tail waving curiously – approached the dog. It tried to lick her pink nose and Tessa jumped a foot away, hissing in alarm. Tessa was not used to another animal being so energetic, considering she was only ever around Crookshanks and Crookshanks was becoming a grumpy old cat.

Before Ron or Hermione could tell him otherwise, Hugo let the dog go and it bounded forward, tripping on its large paws and tumbling into Tessa. Tessa cried out in shock and leapt onto the chair, out of the puppy's reach.

Hugo was beaming widely, his two large front teeth clearly visible. "His name's Jack," he said as the puppy went up to sniff Hermione's foot, its entire body wagging as it licked her shoe. "Can we keep him?"

Hermione glared pointedly at her husband. "We'll see," she said curtly, turning away and leaving the pup to Ron and Hugo.

To be continued.

**Haha yeah. On my sims Ron and Hermione have a black Labrador named Jack so I just decided 'Hey, let's do that!'**

**Anyway, favorite/review if you enjoyed the chapter! Thank you all for understanding about this next week and I promise I won't let any of you down. See you tomorrow!**


	24. Chapter 24

**Hey guys, one day of band camp down! 11 and a half hours later and I can't feel my extremities. Anyway, writing proved to be a good way to wind down after a long day, though I must apologize. In order to maintain a healthy mentality, I must get much of the sleep. It took me about an hour to write this chapter (which I consider impressive; they usually take anywhere between three and six). So forgive me if this is slightly rushed… I didn't have much time.**

**Day 24: Making Up Afterwards**

Ron was quite positive that he could make it a week.

And so he did. He, Hermione, and Hugo took a trip to the Muggle pet store where he and Hugo picked out some dog food, a small cage and, much to Hermione's annoyance, toys and treats. He pulled out one of his old maroon jumpers for Jack to sleep on until they could get him a proper bed and a two makeshift bowls for his food and drink. Jack was surprisingly well behaved, only chewing on one of Ron's least-used trainers while they were out, which Hermione took far too seriously.

"Do you see this?" Hermione asked, waving the half-chewed trainer in front of Ron's face as if he were the dog. "This is why I didn't want a dog. You won't see cats running around, chewing trainers and using the rug as a toilet!"

He cleaned up the mess on the rug, telling Hugo that he'd have to do it next time.

Three days into his week Hermione still seemed indifferent to Jack, who, on the contrary, had taken quite an interest in her. While he enjoyed playing tug-of-war with Hugo or attacking Ron's feet, Ron caught him following Hermione when she was getting ready for work. He greeted her as any other member of the family when she got home, yipping excitedly and jumping on her leg, his entire body wagging with the force of his small yet powerful tail.

But still, nothing.

Ron had been slightly worried about what the cats would think of Jack but was quite satisfied with the result. Crookshanks, having adopted Hermione's perspective toward the Labrador, usually ignored his eagers invitations to play with a small growl and a leap onto the nearest piece of furniture. Tessa, on the other hand, seemed more than happy to have a playmate. Ron noticed her waving her tail over his head a few times, teasing him into trying to catch it, which he eventually did. On one occasion he caught her and Jack cuddled together on his sweater, Tessa grooming him in a motherly fashion as he slept.

But Hermione couldn't see this side of Jack. Ron didn't know why, but she was being quite narrow on the subject, not even giving him a chance! Ron understood his wife was more of a cat person, but everyone had to like dogs a little on the inside, right? He figured she would eventually come around to him; after all, she had fallen for that snobby ginger excuse of a cat.

"Maybe we should get him checked out at the vet," Ron said as they got ready for bed at the end of the third night. "Y'know, make sure he's vaccinated and up-to-date on his shots…"

"We're not doing that because we're not keeping him, Ron," Hermione said firmly, not looking up as she pulled on her pajama bottoms. "You already know that."

Ron was starting to get really annoyed with her. "No, I don't," he said, putting his hands on his hips as he glared across the room at her. "Jack is as much a member of our family as Crookshanks or Tessa, Hermione. Look at him, we've had him three days and he's only chewed up one trainer, made three messes inside, and accidentally bit Tessa once, but even she's grown fond of him! Why haven't you? He likes you, y'know? He follows you around, asking for attention, but you don't even bat an eye!"

"That's because he's not my dog."

"Oh, right. You don't own him; why should you acknowledge his presence in this house?"

"Four more days," Hermione snapped, turning and pointing her finger menacingly. "Four more days and that's it."

They crawled into bed rather stiffly that night, keeping a solid foot between them on the mattress. Of course there was the ritual 'Good night' and 'I love you' (it was a key part of their relationship they didn't forget that), but it didn't seem as casual as it normally did. _She'll get used to him, _Ron assured himself. _I know she will._

The next day didn't go any differently, nor did the fifth. On the sixth Hermione had the day off. Ron had to go into work and Hugo had Little League Quidditch Practice with his cousins after school. Ron was worried about Hermione being alone with Jack; he'd lost hope of her growing attached to him and was already preparing his speech for Hugo. _"I know you like Jack, but Mummy is a mean witch and doesn't like dogs…"_

When he came home the next day, Jack didn't greet him at the door. He knew Hugo couldn't be playing with him – he wasn't going to be home for another hour – so that meant Hermione must've dealt with him. Ron, fuming, stalked into the living room, prepared to have it out with Hermione, when he stopped, surprised to see Jack was not gone, but on her lap.

On the couch, even! Hermione was sitting on the couch, smiling down at the little black puppy on her lap. Jack was absolutely soaking up her attention, his backside shaking as he leaned into her hand scratching his ear. Hermione hadn't noticed Ron enter and was murmuring something under her breath, as if she were afraid to admit anything out loud. Ron thought he caught something like "Wittle cutie…" and "Wuv".

"I knew it!" he exclaimed, causing Hermione to jump. Jack, realizing Ron was home, took off from Hermione's lap to greet him, but Ron ignored him. Instead he stepped toward Hermione, pointing and smirking victoriously. "You like him! Admit it; you've grown fond of Jack!"

Hermione stood up, eyes narrowed and arms crossed defensively. "That was nothing," she said shrilly. "He was simply lonely without you boys' home so I picked him up and petted him. Nothing more."

"'Nothing more,'" Ron crooned, scooping Jack from the ground and holding the little wiggling mass out in front of Hermione. "Look at him, you wuv him! How couldn't you? Look, he has little paws and soft ears and big, soft brown eyes, just like yours!"

"Not just like mine," Hermione said. Ron could tell she was fighting a smile. "His are cuter." She didn't seem able to stop herself. Glaring once at Ron she stepped forward and took Jack in her arms, cradling him against her chest. "Besides, it's not that I ever had anything against him…"

"What?" Ron asked. "Then what was that whole 'no dogs' thing about? If you don't dislike him, why can't we keep him?"

"For Merlin's sake, Ron, are you that oblivious?" Hermione rolled her eyes as Jack licked her cheek. "It was never really about the puppy! Actually I was on the same page as you. With Rose gone, Hugo does need a companion, but I was thinking maybe a rat or something, though I guess a puppy works. What I was really upset about was that you went behind me. True, I have never really wanted a dog and I would have said no, but you could have consulted me. You could have consulted me before bringing him home and I could've had a serious talk with you and Hugo, but instead you overlooked me and went behind my back."

There was a long moment of silence, Ron feeling triumphant (if not slightly guilty) at her words. He was thinking of apologizing or saying something nice in return, but whatever he'd planned came out wrong.

"Can we keep him, then?"

Hermione hesitated, stiffening slightly before she responded, "I suppose so."

Ron beamed. "Great! I can't wait to tell Hugo, he'll be thrilled! Thanks, Hermione, you're the best!" He leaned forward to kiss her, getting a wet lick on his chin from Jack as he did so.

Hermione still seemed tense as he pulled away. "But Ron," she said, stopping him before he could go to the bedroom to change. "Didn't you hear me?"

Ron felt his ear tips burning red. "Er… yeah. I guess I'm still working on the whole 'marriage' thing, aren't I?"

"As always," Hermione said, seeming slightly amused.

"Well, I'm sorry." He put as much sincerity into his voice as he could manage. "I understand now why you were upset and I promise that I will never not consult you when it comes to a big decision. I mean, I didn't think the puppy was that big of a deal, but apparently we have different ideas of-"

"_Ron…_"

He cleared his throat. "Right. Anyway, as I was saying, my mistake. I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," said Hermione, sitting down as she began petting a very pleased Jack.

Hugo was thrilled, of course, and Ron felt that things couldn't be better at the moment. With he and Hermione back on good terms there would be no more required "I love you"'s or awkward goodnight kisses. Later that night, he was putting his toothbrush away when he heard Hermione's voice come from outside the door.

"Is that my handsome boy?"

Ron peeked his head out of the bathroom, grinning widely, only to find Hermione was hovering over Jack, who was stretched out with his belly toward her on the bed. She caught Ron staring and went slightly pink. "Your jumper is in the wash," Hermione explained, sliding down to lay in the bed. Jack curled up at her side. "I figured he could sleep in here with us – just until we get him a proper bed."

"'_No animals on the bed_,'" Ron quoted, something she had said many times.

"Just until he has a bed," Hermione cooed. "Besides, look, he's already sleeping! We can't just throw him out now!"

Climbing into bed, Ron gave Jack a brief warning glare before kissing Hermione goodnight. "Thanks for explaining," he said, slipping into bed and trying to find a comfortable position without crushing Jack. "I love you."

"I love you, Ron," Hermione said. "And you too, Jack."

Ron saw Hermione stroking the pup fondly as he turned off the lights with his Deluminator. _Bloody hell, it's like she's replacing me with him!_

What sort of monster had he created?

**Not bad for a speed right, eh? Well it was obvious when I was proofreading that it was fast work! Ugh, so many of the mistakes.**

** Favorite/review if you enjoyed this chapter! Your comments help keep me going, especially in the long days coming up! Thanks for your support so far and I'll see you all tomorrow!**


	25. Chapter 25

**Okay… day two of band camp went fine, but I woke up this morning and realized what authors mean when they say their muscles were 'screaming' xD**

**On a lighter note, this chapter is pretty… good. I planned it out with my friends a little and, as unoriginal as it may seem, it is always one of my favorite scenes to write… **

**I'll talk more after the chapter.**

**Day 25: Gazing Into Each Other's Eyes**

Hermione was sure that her friendship with Ron was over.

They hadn't spoken beyond yelling since before Christmas and hadn't so much as looked at each other. As much as it pained her she refused to let down. If he couldn't understand why she was upset, well, perhaps he wasn't worth it. The more she thought about it, the more painful and true it became. She didn't know why she invested so much of her spare (and not so spare thoughts) to him and, she promised herself, if by the end of sixth year they still weren't on talking terms, that was it. She was going to pack her metaphorical bags and force herself to move on.

She wished it were that easy.

Besides, how was he supposed to understand why she was upset? He didn't know how she felt – long hours thinking about him, wondering if his homework was getting done without her, imagining what if would feel like to be near him, to simply see him smiling and laughing with her again. That was all private; he couldn't possibly understand unless Ginny had snitched (but Hermione trusted her enough to know she wouldn't).

It was all so very complicated… Hermione just wished it were over.

And, as it turned out, Hermione's wish came true in the worst way possible.

She was on her way to the library when McGonagall stopped her. "Excuse me," McGonagall said, "Miss Granger?"

"Yes, Professor?" Hermione asked, turning to address her teacher. "What is it?"

McGonagall looked pale, like she was feeling ill. Her eyes were deep and sad, almost as if she were sorry for Hermione. "I regret to inform you that Ron Weasley is in the hospital wing."

"What?!" Hermione asked, flinching at how concerned she sounded. She couldn't be that way – he could've stubbed his toe on a suit of armor or caught his finger in his trunk for all she knew. Besides, even if he was in the hospital wing, they weren't friends anymore. Why should she care? "I mean," she cleared her throat, "why?"

"Madam Pomfrey hasn't released the details yet, but, according to Mr. Potter, he was poisoned."

"Poisoned?!" Now Hermione knew it wasn't silly to be panicking. Poisoned! She clenched her books tightly, blinking back tears. "Thank you –er – Professor, but I… I really must… class…"

"You needn't worry about your classes," McGonagall said softly. "I will take care of them for you. You just go and… and wait for any news." McGonagall pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes with it. "Go on, now. I await word of his well-being."

And, for probably the first time in her life, Hermione stopped thinking. She didn't think about the classes or homework she would miss, nor that she wasn't speaking to Ron. She didn't think about what he and his girlfriend did in public (or, as she would admit to worrying about, didn't do) or about what an arrogant git he was. For once she pushed that all to the back of her head and began walking briskly to the hospital wing.

Her quick steps turned to a steady jog and then, before she realized what she was doing, a full-out sprint. She wound her way down corridors, pushing past other students and skipping steps in her haste. She accidentally knocked over a first year on the third floor ("Sorry!") and nearly fell when she forgot which step was which and tripped into one of the fake ones on a westward staircase ("Ouch!"). At last, shaking off the last of a slight limp, she found herself outside the hospital wing with Harry and Ginny.

"What happened?"

Harry explained it to her; how Ron got the love potion, Slughorn's cure, and the pick-me-up drink that had turned out to be poisoned. "And so I shoved a bezoar down his throat and we got him here," Harry finished. He didn't sound too good. "We haven't heard a thing since."

The next hours of Hermione's life were long and agonizing. First there was waiting outside, then going sitting by his bed, and waiting. So much waiting. People came and went, but Hermione didn't pay them much attention. She sat in her seat by his bed, much like a child in time-out, she felt, waiting for her parents to tell her she could play again if she promised to behave herself.

And, just like a kid in time-out, she thought about what she had done.

She had been willing to throw their entire friendship away for the sake of this – this petty argument! She could feel her eyes watering. Glancing around she was glad to find only a few people were there. Ginny had left at some point and Harry was asleep in his chair on the other side of Ron's bed. Leaning forward, Hermione buried her face into the edge of his mattress where he was laying, finally letting herself cry. She had been restraining herself all day and the action had taken its toll on her.

Of course Ron wouldn't understand why she was upset; he didn't understand how she felt! What had she been expecting him to do? Come out and apologize for snogging his girlfriend? Sure, he had been a bit public about it, but Ginny had explained how that was aimed toward her and not Hermione.

In the end, Hermione realized it didn't matter how much of a fool Ron had made of himself with Lavender. What really mattered was that Hermione had been willing (more dreading, to be honest) to lose one of her best friends of seven years. She had been willing to forget him if he didn't see things exactly the same way she did.

She didn't understand how she could be so stupid.

_Seven years and I still don't understand him, _she thought with a sigh, rubbing her eyes as she sat up to look at him. How she had tried, though. She'd categorized every expression he had, every last tone he spoke with and even the way he moved when he was angry or tired, but she still couldn't understand him. She blinked slowly as she rested her hand over his on the sheet. _Maybe that's what's so brilliant about him, _she thought softly. _He's a 1000 piece puzzle waiting to be put together, and I've only got the corner solved. _

She knew what she had to do; what she was going to do as soon as the time came. _I will apologize, _she thought, her mind blurring as she leaned onto his bed, her head resting against his hip as her hand held his firmly. _I'll explain it to him so he can understand where I'm coming from and we can be friends again._

Hermione didn't know when she fell asleep or how long she slept, but she was woken to a dark room. Nearly jumping, Hermione realized she was still in the hospital wing, and what has woken her had been Ron's hand moving.

He was staring at her with wide, unblinking blue eyes, so blue that they made the clear sky on a sunny day seem dull in comparison. Hermione smiled involuntarily. How she'd missed his eyes…

"What're you doing here?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.

Hermione, slightly hurt by the apprehension in his eyes, sat straight up, surprised to find a blanket over her shoulders. She pulled it tighter around her, glancing over at Harry who was still asleep, his glasses now on the table and a blanket draped over him as well.

She turned her attention to Ron. "I'm seeing you, of course," she said as if it were obvious.

"Why?"

She bit her lip, looking down. "I get a message telling me my best friend has been poisoned. Do you think I'm going to be anywhere else?"

He shook his head, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You're not speaking to me," he said. "You're mad."

"Indeed I was," Hermione agreed, looking up at him. "But if the last few hours have taught me anything it's that… that what really matters is…" she paused and cleared her throat. "I've come to realize that, despite our differences and disagreements, you are still my friend, and to lose you forever… I couldn't bear that, Ron." _I could hardly bear losing you for a few months…_

Ron still didn't seem sure. He was staring at her cautiously and Hermione looked back at him, hoping he would be able to tell by looking at her just how sincere she was. _Please… _she prayed silently, blinking quickly to avoid breaking contact with him. _Just hear me, Ron._

To her relief, Ron didn't look away, and, in the dim moonlight shining through the curtains, she was sure he had never been more beautiful. His eyes were standing out, especially noticeable in the pale blue light, his skin tinged with a blue hue that contrasted his freckles perfectly. His hair was as messy and unkept as usual, looking normal, as if him practically glowing were a normal occurrence.

Hermione frowned a hint when he looked away from her, just to smile when she heard him say, "Okay, yeah. I get that. I… I missed you too, Hermione. And if not being your friend is what it takes for me to be with Lavender, then I don't think it's worth it."

Hermione felt herself reddening and looked down, trying to hide her face. "I'm not asking you to break up with your girlfriend," she said quietly. _It would be an added bonus… _"If anything I'm asking to keep your private affairs... well, private."

"All the same, she's a bit clingy," Ron said, and Hermione couldn't help but chuckle.

"I could've told you that; I've shared a room with her for six years!"

He shrugged, grinning goofily. "Thanks for explaining that," he said. "It's makes a lot more sense coming from you than anyone else."

They talked for about ten more minutes before Harry woke up, and another fiive with him until Madam Pomfrey shooed them away. "What are you so happy about?" Harry asked as they made their way back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Nothing," Hermione said, her face split in a grin. "Just… happy."

Harry smiled. "It's nice to hear that coming from you."

**After proof-reading this chapter I've come to realize that my quality work has indeed been going down with my limited writing time/extended band hours. This one was another quick hour off my day, hence I have come to a decision.**

** I'll leave it up to you guys. I would be more than willing to rewrite this chapter after a three day hiatus and pick up where I left off if that's what you guys would like. I could probably make you something more original and less 'Well… it's done…'. (I think I'm also a little worried about tomorrow's prompt 'getting married'… it'll require some research as I haven't been to a wedding since I was five…)**

** So what do you think? Three-day hiatus until after band camp or push through? Let me know what you think in the comments. Thank you for reading this chapter, I hope you found some enjoyment through it, and I'll see you all soon!**


	26. Chapter 26

**Okay guys!**

**Now that band camp is over and my band sunburn is beginning to fade away, I've decided that I am mentally stable enough to write this chapter!**

**Don't worry, I did all my homework; read up on weddings, watched a few random ones online with people I didn't know, consulted people who have actually done the marriage, and I think I've got it pretty good. **

**I did make it a non-religious wedding and thought about the Wizard traditions presented in Bill and Fleur's wedding but also kept in mind that Hermione would probably have Muggle relatives so I don't know I think it turned out okay :)**

**Day 26: Getting Married**

"Are you ready, Hermione?"

Hermione, hearing the music swell on cue, nodded and gripped her father's hand. "Yes, Dad. I'm ready."

She let him step off first, following his lead and trying to keep in step with him as he marched steadily to the music. There was a great shuffling and several gasps as everyone turned and Hermione felt a wide grin spreading across her face as she realized that this was her moment. She'd watched as Fleur, Audrey, and Ginny had theirs and now it was her turn – the only chance she would ever have to experience what it was like to be the center of absolute attention – the bride at her wedding.

It took a whole second before she got over the giddiness and felt her legs shaking slightly. _They're all_ _looking at me… _she thought. _Goodness, it's quite nerve-wrecking… how did they do it?_

And that she found out as well. As her gaze ran across the crowd and reached the end of the aisle, she saw him. Ron – clad in formal dress robes with a white rose in the buttonhole – was standing there, waiting for her. He must've been the only person in attendance that wasn't smiling, but staring at Hermione in awe, as if he couldn't believe she was real. Hermione felt her face heating up but forced herself not to fall into what she would consider the stereotypical role of flustered, giggling bride.

They reached Ron and her father greeted him with a firm handshake, smiling kindly at the red-headed man as if to remind him what he was supposed to be doing. Then he turned to Hermione and hugged her. Hermione held him tightly for a second before letting go. She felt her eyes tearing up as her father took her hand and, in a rather symbolic manner, placed it in Ron's. He nodded curtly and stepped away and Hermione blinked rapidly a few times, promising herself she wouldn't cry, at least not yet (not to mention she'd overheard Ginny and Harry making a bet over the manner and was more than eager to prove Harry wrong).

They stepped in front of the officiant, a kindly old Muggle minister who hadn't minded the few strange changes they had to make in order to make this wedding both customarily acceptable for Ron's Wizarding family and Hermione's oblivious Muggle relatives. _It was quite the task, _Hermione thought, remembering long hours comparing different traditions with him and deciding which ones they could do without (shooting sparks from their wands, for example, had been immediately out of the question), but finally seemed to be paying off.

"Ladies and Gentleman," the officiant began, "we are gathered here today to celebrate the joining of two faithful souls in a lifetime of mutual commitment. It is fitting that you, the family and friends of the bride and groom, should be here to participate in their union."

Hermione could hear soft murmuring in the crowd but focused her attention entirely on Ron, who was now wearing a smile that stretched from ear-to-ear, his eyes bright, limpid blue. From where their hands were connected she could almost feel the excitement and nervousness buzzing off of him, that same excitement and nervousness she was now experiencing, which, she thought, made it silly to say that she was feeling his, considering she was probably just feeling her own. _Concentrate, Hermione, _she reminded herself as her thoughts began to wander. _Don't zone out of your own wedding._

The minister was still discussing the importance of the promises they were about to make and Hermione squeezed Ron's hands reassuringly. He smiled at her gratefully, still looking disbelieving. His eyes asked the question that he had been asking her ever since the night after the Battle of Hogwarts, the same question that he had admitted had haunted him years before they even got together.

_Why would she choose me?_

She snorted quietly, shaking her head as she smiled at him.

_I've been wondering that for years._

In all reality, she had never understood Ron's insecurities about himself. Sure he had his older brothers to live up to, but he had really grown into an impressive man. Silky ginger hair, broad shoulders, long, muscled arms, a tall, lanky frame, bright blue eyes that the ocean dulled in contrast to, and, one of her admittedly favorite of his physical aspects, freckles scattered all over his body, like little constellations waiting to be discovered.

And here she was: an average, frizzy-haired bookworm with an emotional capacity ranging from unconcerned in important situations to overwhelmed by the silliest things.

_We both don't think we're good enough… maybe that's it._

The minister's words cut through her elaborate train of thought.

"At this time, I would like the bride and groom to read their own vows which they have written for their partner."

Hermione, while abruptly pulled into the ceremony, was perfectly calm as she accepted the notecards from the minister containing her vows. She had agreed with Ron that it was better that she go first (as he was more prone to stuttering) and was only slightly regretting her noble offer as her stomach twisted. Her eyes skimmed over the crisp, clean white notes that she knew were only in such a state due to the time she'd dedicated to making sure she had a copy that wasn't scribbled all over. Tapping the edges with her fingertips and making sure they were all neatly together, she began reading.

"Ron." Her voice was steady, that was good. "I have never believed in anything such as destiny. To me, nothing ever happened for a reason – it was all simply because of pure logic. However, some of the greatest love stories out there talk about destiny; _Romeo and Juliet, _or even _The Princess Bride, _for example. Destiny was always claimed to play a role in these but, as I would like to say, it's simple. Girl meets boy. Nothing more, nothing less.

"I will not say that from the moment I met you it was true love, because if I were to say that, I'm fairly sure half of the attending crowd would die laughing." She grinned as she heard a few people in the audience snort. "But I will say this: When I met you, I knew there was something _different _about you. It wasn't the sort of different that storybooks talk about, where there's a life-riveting moment and it's obvious that we're meant to be, but a much more subtle sort of difference. It was as if I could see into you, not that rude, snobby boy you were, but at the man I knew you could become. I could see your intelligence, your quick wit, and most certainly your passion – your passion for anything that you hold dear, or the passion to fight for what you believe in. I could see the potential inside you, Ron Weasley, and it infuriated and intrigued me how you used it at times.

"A decade ago I never thought I would be here. Considered, perhaps hoped a few times, but never truly thought the day would come where I finally admitted my feelings for you to myself, let alone to anyone willing to listen. But now here it is, and after all we've been through – all the adventures and horrors we've faced, disagreements and disputes we've had, every last forced homework session in the library or cheerful conversation shared over a meal in the Great Hall – I realize that it couldn't have been anyone else.

"As I said, I never believed in destiny, but you, Ron, have opened my eyes to so much more than the logical world has ever offered me. From the moment we met I knew you were different, and how right I was." Hermione stifled a laugh as Ron raised his eyebrows. She could almost hear him rolling his eyes good-humoredly at her words. "If there is such a thing as destiny, I daresay it was indeed playing a role that fateful day on the Hogwarts Express, for if it hadn't, I can surely say I wouldn't be here today. For all the times you have saved me – whether it be that first time in girls' lavatories on Halloween or any of the nights you've helped me when I was afraid to sleep – I will never be able to tell you how much you mean to me.

"You, Ronald Bilius Weasley, are my best friend, my savior, my soulmate. I love you."

Hermione heard sniffling from the crowd and realized, with a slight jolt of illogical triumph, she had made at least a few people cry. _Well, I did put quite a lot of work into those vows… I might have been disappointed if people weren't crying._

Even Ron's eyes seemed to be glowing slightly… or that could be because he'd just pulled his own vows out of his pocket. His index cards were obviously used, folded and refolded to the point of permanent lines in the paper. Through the final notecard she could see scribble marks and her heart fluttered in anticipation. _At least he didn't procrastinate on them…_

Not that she'd ever doubted him.

However, instead of reading off the notes, he folded them once more and stuffed them in his pockets, taking Hermione's hands in his and looking into her eyes. Taking a breath, he began.

"I've never been good with words," he said, and Hermione had the feeling he wasn't reciting his cards. "But, in this case, I think it's suitable, because there are no words for who you are to me. I've spent hours – months! – looking for the right word, but there simply isn't one. So, I'll do my best with the words I've got and see if it makes any sense.

"You are the person I need in my life. You've always been there to get me to do my homework when I otherwise wouldn't have or helped explain to me the differences between an animagus and a werewolf. You make sure I don't sleep in on work days and sometimes even help me recook dinner when I've accidentally burned it to death or set fire to the stove.

"But you are also the person I want in my life. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on and you continue to fascinate me every day with something new about you – like how come it took me thirteen years to find out you could make little people appear in a wooden box? It's amazing! And then the people will move and talk and go on about everyday life and sometimes sing and it's bloody fantastic!"

Hermione didn't have the heart to tell him that her Muggle relatives were confused by his enthusiasm about the telly.

Ron paused briefly, as if choosing his words carefully, and then spoke. "In my life, I've always felt second-best, like nobody would pick me first, but when I'm with you, I realize how wrong I am. You've always put me first, even when I didn't know it, and all I can say is I must be the freaking luckiest git on the planet to have you up here beside me, holding my hands and looking at me with that brilliant smile of yours.

"I guess, in the end, it all comes down to one fact, Hermione. You are my life, you have always been my life, and will always be my life. You've been with me through it all, when things were at their best, and when it seemed that they couldn't get worse. You will never understand how much I love you, Hermione, and I hope you will never forget it."

Hermione could feel her eyes brimming with tears but rapidly attempted to blink them away. She wanted to kiss him then, to tell him his speech was beautiful, but knew that could wait for later; perhaps when he was helping her out of this nuisance of a dress, for instance.

She pulled herself quickly back to the present as the officiant spoke. "Today, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger proclaim their love and commitment in front of their family and friends, and we gather to celebrate, with and for them, in the new life they now undertake together.

"Ron, if it is your desire to take Hermione as your bride, please signify by placing this ring on her left hand ring finger and repeat these words to her."

Ron had the ring in his hand and Hermione flexed her fingers, her heart racing and adrenaline pumping through her as she watched his hand lingering near, waiting for the words before he could put it on.

"'I give you this ring as a symbol of my love…'"

"I give you this ring as a symbol of my love," Ron said confidently, looking sincere but ecstatic at the same time.

"'As I place it on your finger,'"

"As I place it on your finger,"

"'I commit my heart and soul to you.'"

"I commit my heart and soul to you." Hermione hear his voice catch that time and glanced up at him to where he was staring intently at her hand, his eyes looking especially wet.

"'I ask you to wear this ring as reminder,"

"I ask you to wear this ring as a reminder,"

"'Of the vows we have spoken today.'"

"Of the vows we have spoken today."

The officant nodded and Ron slid the ring onto Hermione's finger. It felt strange, Hermione thought, it a new, brilliant way.

"Hermione, if it is your desire to make Ron your husband, please signify by placing this ring on the ring finger of his left hand and repeat these words to him."

Hermione repeated the words and put the ring on Ron's finger, feeling as if she had some sort of power as she did so. _It's almost done, _Hermione thought excitedly. _It's almost finished and then we'll be married…_

"Please join hands and repeat these words together."

The officiant spoke the words and, as instructed, Ron and Hermione repeated them at the same time, having a staring contest, as it seemed, as neither of them were blinking.

"I accept this ring as a promise of my love. Not just in good times, but all times. In sickness and in health, to stand by your side and truly love you for always, for as long as we both shall live."

"Ron and Hermione, please face me."

They obeyed.

"Ron, do you take Hermione as your lawfully wedded wife, to share and love, to stand by her side in time of need, to be her best friend for as long as you shall live?"

Ron didn't miss a single beat. "I do."

"Hermione, do you take Ron as your lawfully wedded husband, to share and love, to stand by his side in time of need, to be his best friend for as long as you shall live?"

Hermione responded as quickly as Ron. "I do."

"Then with the power invested in me, I declare you bonded for life. You may kiss the bride."

Hermione cupped Ron's cheek as he leaned down to kiss her. Though she knew this kiss was special – their first kiss as a married couple – it didn't really feel that much different. Sure, there was loud clapping all around, the sound of a few people blowing their noses and what felt like an expectation to make this a really showy, beautiful kiss, but to Hermione, it was almost as if nothing had changed. It was still Ron's warm, smooth lips, still his rough stubble beneath her hands and his broad chest beneath her arms, just with a lot of extra noise.

He pulled away so her nose was still against his and she could feel his hot breath on her lips. "I love you," he said around a laugh, backing away.

"I love you," she repeated, smiling widely.

"Now please turn to your friends and family," said the officiant and they did as they were told. "For the first time, may I please introduce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley!"

Hermione held Ron's hand tightly, feeling a slight, wonderful pinching where her ring was caught between them. "Mrs. Weasley," she said thoughtfully. "I don't know about you, but I like the sound of that."

Ron smiled as they began their trip down the aisle. "Me too, but don't wear it out quite yet. I'm planning on using it a lot tonight."

**Anyway yeah. I think I kept them pretty well in character… I think the vows might've gotten a bit longer than originally anticipated but what can I say? I was on a roll.**

** Please feel free to favorite/review if you liked the chapter! Thank you for your patience and I promise you I will be catching up on my missed chapters as quickly as I can write/proofread them! See you all soon!**

**(P.S.: YES that quote about Ron being a 1000 piece puzzle last chapter was mine and needless to say it is the most beautiful thing I have ever metaphored. I am quite proud of it and will boast about it to anyone who will listen because HOT DAMN I wrote that line! xD the things you'll come up with when you're half-asleep and fighting the Nyquil!)**


	27. Chapter 27

**I honestly had no idea what to do with this chapter… so, I just kind of went with my heart and, it, uh, took me places. Damn heart. **

**Day 27: On One of their Birthdays**

It was their third year at Hogwarts before Ron realized something crucial about his best friend Hermione Granger: she had a birthday.

It was quite silly, he thought as she mentioned it, because he had never really thought of her as a mortal, aging being, but rather a repetitive, homework-finishing machine.

That being said, Ron would never get over the embarrassment he felt as he spit out his pumpkin juice all over his eggs and bacon, choking as he stared at Hermione with wide eyes. "To – today's your what?"

"Birthday," Hermione confirmed, casting a half-hearted glare at Ginny, who had brought the subject up. Ginny shrugged, blushing. "But I don't like to advertise it."

"Why not?" Ron asked, dumbfounded. "Bloody hell, Hermione, it's your birthday!"

"Indeed, it is," she responded flatly, neatly taking a bite of her porridge. "But I prefer to spare myself the off-hand wishes and awkward singings. I realized at a young age that it was no special matter and have not seen it as one since."

At the time, Ron hadn't been able to comprehend Hermione's brush-off attitude toward what, in his family, was considered an annual holiday that was celebrated eight separate times of the year.

Years later, when Ron and Hermione got together, he strived to make her birthdays as enjoyable as possible, to change her view on the day once and for all.

And, of course, what better way to do so than with the help of two master chefs?

Maybe that was an understatement, Ron quickly realized, as one of them was running around using the mixing bowl as a helmet as the other cooed and laughed from his high chair.

"Rose, Rose! Come back here!" Ron yelped, lunging and making a grab for his daughter. Rose laughed as he caught her around the middle and hoisted her up onto his hip. "Gimme that," he said, taking the orange mixing bowl from her head. Her frizzy orange hair popped from underneath it and Ron thought – with a groan – it would be insanitary to go without washing the bowl beforehand.

"Daddy! Daddy, can we play house?" Rose asked eagerly, stretching the neckline of his old Chudley Cannons shirt as she pulled at it. "Plleeeaaasseeee?"

"Not now, Rosie," Ron said, looking around hurriedly. "We're making Mummy a cake, remember?"

Rose's face lit up. "Oh, right! Because it's Mummy's birthday!"

Ron smiled. "You've got it."

"Yay! Oh, oh is Hugo gonna help us too, Daddy? Is he?"

"He certainly is," Ron promised her, setting her on the floor. "Now, Rosie, I need you to listen and be a very good girl. Daddy needs to clean this bowl and while Daddy's doing that, he expects you to go into the bathroom to wash your hands. Can you do that for me?"

Rose beamed. "Yes, yes I can!"

"Very good! Make sure they're nice and clean for Mummy's cake when you come back!"

Rose scampered off to the bathroom and Ron, sighing with relief, quickly scrubbed out the mixing bowl Rose had used. He had it dried and was getting out the chocolate cake mix when Rose came running back into the kitchen.

"Finished, Daddy!"

"Great job, Rose. Now, can you open the little cabinet and fetch me the vegetable oil?"

Having cooked with his daughter before, Ron was confident that she knew what he was talking about. He took the bottle she handed him without thinking and let out a small cry as he realized what she handed him wasn't the oil but was, in fact, a glass-cleaning solution.

"Wrong one, Rose," he said, putting it back in the cabinet she had taken it from and locking it with a simple locking charm. "Remember, the cooking oil is _this _one."

"Oh, right, sorry Daddy!"

"It's okay, but remember for next time, we don't go into that cabinet," Ron said in as stern of a voice as he could manage. He added the ingredients to the mixture and stirred it briskly. "Rose, want to help me put it in the pan?" Ron asked as he licked the whisk he was using (nobody would have to know about that minor detail).

"Sure, Daddy! And look, Crooky wants to help too!"

"Okay Rose now come here an- wait, what?"

Too late did he translate her sentence to 'I am bringing the demon cat into the kitchen.' As soon as Ron turned, the struggling Crookshanks leapt out of Rose's arms and onto the counter. "Crookshanks no!" Ron yelled, but it was too late. Crookshanks was a smart cat and knew he had no place being on the counter, and, as such, ran along the length to where he could leap off the end and successfully escape Rose under the kitchen table. However, as it turned out, every obstacle imaginable was in his way.

By the time Crookshanks made it under the table, the kitchen was in ruins. In his frantic ten-second run, he ran over the egg carton, rammed into the cooking oil, thrown two glass cups off the counter, caught the salt shaker with his fat tail, and knocked over Hugo's lunch.

Thankfully, Ron was able to avert one disaster and scooped up his daughter before she could take off after the cat. Rose squirmed in protest but Ron held her tight. "Rose, don't move," he said quietly, staring with wide-eyes at the mess around them.

It was at times like this where he missed his ability to curse freely.

"Okay, Rosie, here's the deal." Ron backed away to the door in the kitchen that led out into the garage. He slipped on his trainers. "Daddy needs you to go to your room, okay?"

Rose sniffled. "Is Crooky in trouble, Daddy?"

"No," Ron said through gritted teeth as he carefully maneuvered his way across the broken glass. "Daddy just needs to clean up this mess is all. Please," he set her down safely on the carpet in the living room. "Go to your room and wait until Daddy tells you it is safe to come out. What would Mummy say if we hurt your feet on the glass?"

Rose nodded and took off to her room. Ron waited until he heard her door closing then turned to Hugo, who was still clapping his hands and laughing from where he sat. "Ha, ha, very funny," Ron said sarcastically as he unbuckled his son and lifted him up from his chair. "I'm sorry, buddy, but lunch is going to be a few more minutes. If you don't mind, Daddy needs you to wait in your play pen as he says very bad words and makes rude gestures at Crooky."

Hugo, as oblivious as ever, gargled on.

"That's what I thought."

He set Hugo in his room and left him, grateful, for once, at the infant's loud screams as they meant Rose wouldn't be able to hear him as he cleaned up.

"Bloody fucking ruddy damned nipple-headed cat," Ron snarled under his breath as he stared at his mess, unsure of whether to start with the egg yolks or the oil. He continued to speak in a string of foul language in which he commonly used crude terms that one may use to describe the human genital regions, adding the occasional verb to make it even more offensive. Had Hermione been able to hear him, she would have elbowed him or slapped him very hard on the shoulder with her signature "_Ronald!_"

After a good minute of this slang, Ron turned to a series of elaborate death threats.

"…and staple your tail to the wall!"

It was probably five minutes of swearing, death threats, and suggestive hand gestures at Crookshanks later that Ron finally got his head back. He took a deep breath, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and picked up the telephone.

"Hey, Gin. So, remember that time I walked in on you and Harry in the pantry but you made me promise not to tell anyone? Well, unless you want Mum to hear all about that, I have a little favor to ask of you."

With a little magic from a rather annoyed Ginny ("You didn't need to threaten me, I would've helped you anyway!") the kitchen was cleaned and cake baked in no time. Ron and Rose each gave her a grateful hugs. "Anytime," Ginny promised, giving Hugo a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you all at brunch on Sunday."

By the time Hermione got home, the cake was decorated, the children changed into nice clothes, and Ron in the kitchen cooking dinner.

"What are you making?" Hermione asked, kissing Ron on the cheek as she made her way past him.

"Spaghetti," he smiled. "Just how you like it."

After she'd changed, they all sat down for the meal. Ron let Hugo feed off crackers as the rest of them ate (Hugo made a mess of the simplest things; Ron dreaded the day he would try spaghetti) and they talked about their day. Ron liberally left out the part where he cursed violently at Crookshanks, figuring that part was better off staying between him and the cat.

Once they'd had dessert and sung Happy Birthday, they put the kids down for bed.

"Ugh, what a day," Hermione sighed, collapsing on the living room couch.

"I know," Ron agreed, taking a seat beside her.

"I don't know about you, but I had three meetings today – three!"

She let herself lean against Ron and Ron wrapped his arm around her, smiling as he massaged her upper arm. "You did great, I know it." He planted a kiss on the side of her head and she sighed happily. "Now, the kids are in bed and we have the house to ourselves. What do you want to do, birthday girl?"

"Hmmm…" Hermione said thoughtfully. He knew she must be smiling and her hand had started rubbing circles on his chest. "I don't know. What do you feel like doing?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Honestly, it's all the same to me. If we just want to fall asleep here or have some 'birthday fun', if y'know what I mean, either way sounds good."

"I don't know what you mean," said Hermione cheekily. "When you say 'birthday fun', do you mean it as in 'what we did last week when the kids where at your mother's house' fun, or more of a 'the things we would get up to before we had kids' fun?"

Ron snorted. "Well, I reckon we're both too tired for the latter, not to mention out of practice. I mean, it wasn't easy staying in character then, how do you think it would be now?"

Hermione didn't respond but stood up, looking around as if to make sure they were alone before returning her attention to Ron. "I know, but just for tonight… I've got it." Hermione beckoned him toward the kitchen and Ron followed. "Here we go," she said. "I am the famous, respected chef and you are my apprentice."

"I'm listening."

Hermione beamed. "Great… you are madly in love with me-"

"How will I ever play such a convincing role?"

"-and will do anything to please me. You are a very soft-spoken fellow, maybe a little needy, and definitely submissive. I, on the other hand, am cold, heartless, and you have to convince me not to fire you. Ready?"

Ron nodded.

"Excellent."

All in all, Ron thought it was one of the best birthday's he'd ever experienced, even when, half an hour later, Rose came into the kitchen to get a glass of water and Ron and Hermione became masters of the great art of lying.

**I don't know that sounds like a promising start to a one-shot… ****do I dare?**

** Anyway** **favorite/review if you enjoyed Ron's elaborate cursing! Thank you to everyone for your awesome reviews! I love you all and I'll see you soon!**


	28. Chapter 28

**I haven't written drunk!Ron or drunk!Hermione yet, have I? **

**Day 28: Doing Something Ridiculous**

"Shot glasses?"

"Check."

"Bottle of Odgen's?"

"Got it."

"Article?"

"As requested, m'lady."

"Good." Hermione couldn't help but smile as Ron sat down on the floor on the opposite side of the coffee table.

"So what is it you're planning?"

"I think you ought to have guessed by now," Hermione said as she pulled a notecard from her jean pocket.

Ron gave her a mischievous, lop-sided grin. "I've certainly had the chance, but knowing you there'll be rules." He rested his elbows on the table, leaning forward. "Well?"

Hermione smirked. "Did you read the article before you brought it here?"

"Nope, not even the headline," he said earnestly. "Just as you instructed."

Hermione nodded. "Good. Okay, I have been informed by reliable sources that the article lying before us is Rita Skeeter's opinion of our marriage." Ron's eyes widened but he said nothing. "Now, using her old articles about us since the war ended, I have pieced together a drinking game. It's very simple – we will read the article out loud together and every time she says a statement listed on the notecard, we have to take a shot. Of course, I made it a variety. For example, every time she mentions my hair, I take a shot. Every time she says something about your brute strength, you get a shot. And every time she calls Harry the chosen one, we both drink."

Ron nodded excitedly. "I've got it, let's play!"

Hermione laughed. "Here, you hold the list," she instructed as she picked up and unfolded the snippet of the _Daily Prophet _he had set on the table. "I'll read it out loud. Pour the first shots."

He did so and Hermione began reading.

"_The Golden Trio-"_

"That's a shot."

Hermione looked up at Ron, battling between irritation and amusement as she remembered writing that one down. "Does it count, this early in the game?"

Ron snorted. "Knowing Rita's articles, I'd reckon we're going to need it."

"And I reckon we'll be getting alcohol poisoning," Hermione muttered. However, rules were rules, and she obediently took her shot. Setting the glass back on the table, she cringed and coughed at the burning sensation in her throat. It would take a few to get used to it. "Anyway, where was I?"

"She called us the Golden Trio already."

"Right… _The Golden Trio – a friendship destined to be soiled by the blemishes of love – seems to have finally reached its end. After years of betrayal, pain, and heartbreak, it seems that Hermione Granger has, at long last, decided to retire from her role of female love interest to adopt that of the wife of Ronald Weasley. _

_ "It is widely known how, back in her days as a mere student at Hogwarts, Mrs. Granger was suspected of brewing an illegal love potion to seduce not only the great Harry Potter, but famous Quidditch Seeker Viktor Krum. Breaking both of their hearts in the process, Mrs. Granger continued to remain friends with both before mentioned celebrities, only to issue yet another emotional blow to them when she began dating Ronald Weasley – a close friend of Harry Potter's – less than a week after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's defeat in May of 1998."_

"She's calling you Mrs. Granger," Ron said, studying the note card furiously. "That's a shot for you, though I think it's fair to say I'll be passing you here pretty shortly."

Hermione didn't say anything but obediently drank the shot he'd already poured, shuddering at the taste once again. "Ugh… I have the feeling she's not using my married name for a reason," Hermione said. She had decided to hyphenate her name for work related business (there were too many 'Mrs. Weasley's' working at the Ministry; she'd already gotten two memos meant for Audrey) and Rita Skeeter must have taken this the wrong way.

Ron only nodded and Hermione continued to read.

_"'Look, I won't say it again, their relationship is theirs and mine is mine, so bug off,' stated Harry Potter when asked his opinion on his ex-girlfriend's sudden interest in his best friend back in June of 1998. 'We've all been through a lot of crap in the last few months and the last thing we need is the press butting into our love lives.'_

_ "Despite his supposed lack of interest, it is quite obvious that the crossed lines took their toll on Potter and Weasley's friendship when Weasley retired from his job as a ranking Auror. 'It's a dangerous job,' he claimed, 'one that I can't risk keeping at the moment.'"_

Hermione felt herself blushing – or maybe that was just the alcohol? She had been the one who insisted that Ron take George's promotion over his Auror job. 'For your safety,' she had said selfishly.

"Two shots for me – mentioning my leaving the Aurors and talking about my 'withering' friendship, and one for each of us for quoting Harry."

They each took the respective shots, Ron gaining a lead. Hermione wasn't sure how much longer she'd be able to keep this up; Ron had a considerably higher alcohol tolerance than her and she was already hot and light-headed.

Her words were slightly slurred as she continued.

"_Many did not expect Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Granger's fling to last long, but it was the sound of wedding bells that shocked many of the magical community just last month. Held outdoors at the Weasley residence, no more than 100 guests (both Muggles and Wizards alike) attended. Surprisingly enough Viktor Krum was spotted in the crowd where he was supposedly congratulating the happy couple._

_ "This combined with the marriage of Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley has led to great suspicion. Did Potter marry Weasley's younger sister as a way for payback? Was Mrs. Granger forced into the marriage – or perhaps was it Mr. Weasley? Do Potter and Granger still have feelings for each other? The answers, my dear readers, we may never know. _

_ "'Neither of us were forced into this,' claimed Mrs. Granger the day after returning from her honeymoon. 'We are both equally consenting adults that agreed to take part in this together. Now, if you'll excuse me, Miss Skeeter, I would most appreciate it if you would let me into my office.' _

_ "However not everyone believes this. 'They're a little strange sometimes', admitted Mrs. Granger's office assistant, Kyle Bennett, upon questioning. 'I've seen them rowing once or twice in [Mrs. Granger's] office – they can be quite loud, and I also sometimes notice Mrs. Granger trying to hide scratches and bruises on her arms and neck.'" _

Hermione had to stop as Ron laughed at the top of his lungs, nearly falling forward onto the table. Hermione was trying to stifle her own laughter, fighting between amusement and embarrassment. "See that?" Ron roared. "Even the press knows how kinky we are!"

"Ronald!" Hermione squeaked, trying to appear angry at his comment (unsuccessfully). "We're only lucky they didn't spot any of my bites on you!"

"'Course they didn't, I'm much better at hiding it!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "How many shots?"

"Well… they mentioned Vicky, one for you, and Ginny is one for me… they mistook our kinks for me being abusive… so that's two for me and one more for you."

They took the shots. "How much more?" Ron asked, his usually pale face flushed. Hermione wasn't much better off – she'd only had two less than him, after all.

"Only a little," she said promised.

"_Unfortunately it may be too late for Mrs. Granger to regret her decision. With Mr. Potter settling down with her sister-in-law and Viktor Krum seeming to have finally moved on, she only has her new husband to rely on. From the bottom of my heart, I truly do hope that Mrs. Granger has finally turned over a new leaf and moved on from her scandalous old ways."_

She finished the article, laughing uncontrollably with Ron. "So, how 'bout it?" she asked. 

"Rubbish," Ron snorted. "As usual. Bloody hilarious once you've had a few, though."

"I don't know," Hermione said, leaning against the table. "You never know… maybe I am madly in love with Harry…"

Ron's clear blue eyes gleamed. "Well, I'll just have to take care of that, won't I?"

"Indeed you will."

"I best get started now."

"You best."

**Yeah… so I've been reading a lot of fanfiction that involves these two roleplaying lately… I really need to stop it's starting to affect my work.**

** Anyway, favorite/review if you enjoyed drunk!romione (well… kind of drunk… either way)! This chapter was kind of fun to write so I hope it was just as fun to read. See you soon! **


	29. Chapter 29

**:3**

**Day 29: Doing Something Sweet**

Ron had heard Harry talk about it, but no words could describe how he was feeling.

It was almost unreal. _Years, _he thought, _years have lead up to this moment. Years where anything could have gone wrong… but it didn't, and here we are._

He was glad it was only him and Hermione in the room, because he was sure he wasn't going to be able to hold her long without crying. Sure, she was small, and red, and looked slightly inhuman, but that wasn't the point, because she was theirs. Their daughter, not Harry or Ginny's, not Percy's or George's, theirs.

It had been scary at first, at least for Ron. Hermione, as always, had been on top of things, telling him exactly what they needed to do (such as getting to the hospital as opposed to staring at Hermione's stomach with his mouth hanging open). And then there was the whole birthing experience which, as Ron realized, was better experienced by Hermione's head, no matter how many bones she broke while supposedly 'holding' his hand. After that it had been terrifying. All Ron could remember was a lot of noise and some people telling him that they were sure both the mother and child would be fine, that they just wanted to run a few tests to make sure there were no complications.

Fortunately, there weren't. Hermione had fallen asleep quickly afterwards (Ron couldn't blame her; he was tired, and that was coming from the bloke who hadn't just spent hours in labor). She'd insisted that he wake her up as soon as he heard anything and he'd promised to do so, but now he wasn't so sure.

_She looks exhausted, _Ron thought, tearing his eyes off the newborn baby to look at his sleeping wife. _But a promise is a promise… and she'll kick my arse if I don't…_

Besides, what really was the significance of this moment if he couldn't share it with his wife?

"Hermione," he murmured, securing the baby in one arm before leaning to poke her with the other. "Hermione, wake up."

Hermione seemed awake, but hardly. "Hmm?" she asked, not opening her eyes.

"It's her. She's okay. She's… she's perfect."

Hermione eyes fluttered open to look at him, exhausted, numb, but relieved. "She's healthy?" Hermione asked as she caught sight of her in his arms. A thin smile stretched across her face.

"Yes, you did brilliantly."

"Can I… can I hold her?" Hermione seemed uncertain.

Ron nodded and, very carefully, stood and handed their daughter over to her. He kneeled beside the hospital bed as Hermione held her, her eyes glistening with tears. "She's alright," she whispered, closing her eyes as tears escaped. "We're parents, Ron."

Ron kissed the side of Hermione's head, burying his face in her hair to hide it from her. He'd rather not let her see how emotional he was right now. He watched as Hermione stroked the wisp of signature red Weasley hair on the baby's head and felt more than slightly overwhelmed.

"What's her name?" Hermione asked.

"We narrowed it down to a few," Ron said.

"Which ones?"

"Well, I think Rose was one of them," he replied, purposefully choosing his favorite first.

"I like that; she looks like a Rose."

"I think so too."

"And?"

"Rose Jean Weasley?" Ron suggested.

Hermione smiled. "That doesn't sound too bad."

"Well then, welcome to the world, Rosie." Ron lay his hand against her head, about to comment on how small his hand made it look when he decided against it. "Our family's a little big but you'll like it. Grandma Molly always make sweaters for Christmas so you have that to look forward to, and Uncle George will probably give you a discount at his joke shop." Ron grinned, settling in. "And then you'll have your Uncle Percy. Don't pay him any attention – he's a load of rubbish. And Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur are always happy to babysit; they make really good food when Grandma isn't hogging the limelight. Now, about Uncle Harry-"

"Ron, you know she's not even awake?" Hermione asked kindly.

Ron gave her his most sincere glare. "Excuse you, but I'm talking here." He turned back to Rose. "Don't mind Mummy, she's just a little cranky is all."

Hermione muttered something matter-of-factly.

"Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, your Uncle Harry. He may think he's all that, but really, he's kind of a tosser. He and Aunt Ginny will try to tell you things like 'Seekers are really important' or 'Chasers are the best' but listen to me right now: Keeper is the way to go. Got it? Good."

Ron must have gone on for several minutes, Hermione adding a few comments here and there. After a while, Hermione dozed off, and Ron took Rose and sat down in the chair with her again.

"You may wonder why I'm telling you all this," he said, "and that is a very good question, Rosie, because I have a very good answer.

"Many years ago there was a very bad man who tried get rid of people like your mum – people raised by non-magic folks. Uncle Harry, Mummy and Daddy all fought against him back in the day and we won. Thank Merlin, otherwise your probably wouldn't be here now.

"There's a reason Mummy still wakes up in the middle of the night sometimes, and a reason that Daddy will sometimes be really sad, but you will never need to worry about that, Rosie, because the bad guy's gone. We finished him for each other, for our family, and especially for you, so you will never have to live in the same fear we did growing up. You don't know how lucky you are to be a Weasley, not to mention your mum! She's the brightest witch of the age, y'know? She's brilliant and strict, but that's where I come in.

"I've told your mum this before, but it's time for you to hear the speech. Whatever happens, no matter how big or small, I will always be here for you, Rosie. I will always be willing to put my life on the line for you or your mum, and I will do anything in my power to make sure you are both safe. It took me a long time to get this life and I'll never let anything ruin it for you."

He sat there in silence, the sense of pride and protectiveness he'd felt when he first took her expanding until it felt like he was wearing a large, heavy plaque on his chest. Leaning down to kiss Rose on the forehead, he whispered, "I love you, Rosie."

And for that moment, if only for that single moment, everything was perfect.

**What? No! Me, cry? LOL YOU'RE CRYING CRY-BABY**

** Anyway, I'll get the final chapter posted today as well (sorry, band camp threw me all off). I'm kind of sad to see it over… I was thinking that I could perhaps do some other challenge. Of course, it would be more of a weekend challenge (considering I have to school now xP) but I don't know… maybe I could write a prompt based off the each of the letters of the alphabet or something? What do you guys think?**

** Thank you all so much for your love and support in the last month! I honestly don't know what I would have done without you all and if I could I would give you each all the love and candy in the world (? It's late)!**

** Favorite/review if you enjoyed! I think next chapter I'll be making a full list of honorable reviewers because... I don't know maybe it'll help emphasize how much you guys mean to me? (Words won't cut it)**

**I'll see you all later! **


	30. Chapter 30

**Okay, guys, you know the drill. This chapter contains some *cough* mature *cough* content (in case you couldn't tell). I would probably rate this a high T because I know teenagers can deal with a lot these days… but this might also qualify as an M. However, I have read T fanfictions that were worse than this so I think it's okay.**

**All the same, if you don't want to read it, you don't have to :) (But I mean it's pretty good so you probably should). **

**Day 30: Doing Something Hot**

_I hate him so much… _

Hermione tried her best to ignore Ron as she took another spoonful of mashed potatoes. "So, how is Romania, Charlie?" she asked. It was quite a rare experience to have him here eating dinner with the rest of the family, though Hermione was having trouble concentrating as Ron's left hand was very gradually working its way under her skirt.

"Quite lovely," Charlie answered, looking thrilled. "We've gotten a new Hungarian Horntail – nasty little bugger. Already tried to take off one of my fingers, nearly got away with it too! Reckon he'll be interesting to try an' train. Anyway, enough about me, how 'bout you? Heard you and Gin are in your final year?"

"You heard correctly," Hermione said, suddenly shutting her mouth. Ron was hallway up her inner thigh, his nails scratching her in what she would consider quite an erotic manner. "Why don't you tell him, Ginny?" she asked shrilly, afraid of the noises that may escape her if things continued the way they were going.

"Er, alright," said Ginny, looking both delighted and confused. "Well, we've got our N.E.W.T.'s coming up here in the next few months so we've been focusing a lot on-"

Hermione stopped listening to Ginny as she felt Ron cup her over her knickers. Inhaling sharply, she picked up the nearest silverware and stabbed her fork into her potatoes, taking a large bite. His fingers stroked over her center and Hermione cursed him as she felt a glowing in her womb, a few sparks erupting from where he was touching her.

_Why am I not stopping him? _Hermione wondered as she brought the fork to her mouth again, accidentally biting it as Ron pushed against her. _Sure, we haven't so much as snogged since Christmas, but that was only four months ago! There'll be plenty of time for fooling around later, in private, where we wouldn't have to be quiet or discreet… where the risk isn't as high… _

But, as barmy as it was, Hermione almost thought the idea appealing; it was a challenge. Sure, a risky, _kinky _challenge, but a challenge nonetheless. She could tell Ron off and let them both lose or let him continue and, hopefully, win. _All I have to do is be quiet and act normal, _she figured. _I can do that._

Ron's index finger tentatively pushed the edge of her knickers and prepared to push beneath them, but paused. Hermione glanced up at him to see he was watching her, a mischievous grin on his face and wicked gleam in his eyes. He raised his eyebrow at her in question and, in response, she shifted so she was sitting with her legs wider apart.

Her heartbeat accelerated as he pushed beneath the flimsy fabric, his first finger coming in contact with her swollen sex. Hermione bit her lip and fisted the table cloth with her left hand. While it felt brilliant, it wasn't just the feeling, but almost more of the thought of what he was about to do that made Hermione want to moan out loud. Everything seemed intensified now that there were risks, and Hermione felt weird admitting how much more brilliant it was because of that.

One, then two fingers joined the first one. His middle finger was directly over her entrance and, without warning, he slowly sunk down into her. Behind her internal scream of frustration, she hear Ron's breath shake and couldn't help but smile. _Seems like I'm not the only one having trouble. _

He pushed as far into her as he could and stroked back down along her wall, flicking over her sensitive clit before steadily working his way to two fingers. Hermione, realizing she was tense, forced herself to relax. She put her shoulders back and, with great concentration, let go of the now wrinkled table cloth. Her toes remained curled beneath the table, but she figured no one would bother noticing that.

Ron continued, slowly enough as to make sure no one would catch what they were doing. Hermione abandoned her potatoes to stare at the ceiling, not feeling comfortable looking anywhere else with her current state. Once or twice she attempted to catch the conversation but was distracted as Ron altered his pattern, curling and uncurling his index and middle fingers inside her as his thumb pressed against her nerve. Hermione let out a nearly inaudible whimper and closed her thighs slightly, trying to push him deeper into her.

Another few minutes of this must have passed before they were interrupted. "Let me take your plates, dears," Molly offered, leaning over them to take their dirty dinner plates. Hermione – eyes wide with panic, nearly cried out as Ron took the opportunity to thrust his fingers into her with the speed and power she was longing for. _Thank Merlin for the long table cloth… otherwise it'd be clear what we're doing._

Ron shifted his arm to get a better angle with his hand. If Hermione hadn't been so turned on she might have noticed how awkward his arm looked but, seeing as she was hitting the peak of her arousal, she couldn't have cared less. He had three fingers inside her, the palm of his hand pushing against her clit as his fingers rhythmically pumped in and out of her and a cautious speed. Cheeks flushed and sweating, Hermione leaned forward and put her head in her arms, issuing a low growl instead of a cry of pleasure.

The glow in her womb had grown to a steady throb, pulsing against Ron's fingers. She knew that from here the game would only be harder. From past experience, she'd learned her body's signs – little tell-tale things that usually happened as she started getting closer to her climax, and the odds weren't looking in her favor.

"Who's ready for pudding?"

Ron slowed down a bit as the pudding was served. Hermione only stared apprehensively at the savory chocolate dessert, worried that she would bend the spoon in a vice, orgasm-induced grip, or moan as soon as she opened her mouth. The tension was becoming thicker and she could feel her entire body beginning to tremble uncontrollably.

"Hermione, aren't you going to eat?" Percy asked.

"O–of course," Hermione practically gasped, her eyes widening in panic. Ron's middle finger was now focusing on her clit, running small circles over and around it. Waves of pleasure were emanating from it and she knew she wouldn't last much longer at this rate.

Thinking about every movement she made, Hermione picked up her spoon (holding it only as tight as she dare), took a bite of pudding, and brought it to her mouth. She scratched the spoon with her teeth; Ron had thrust into her. _He's planning this, _Hermione thought with a slight edge of panic. _He's picking up now. I – I can't orgasm. Not like this, it's too risky! Someone will notice, if they haven't already!_

"Excuse me," she said, a breathless squeak (it could've been worse, she figured). "I need – I need to use the loo. Would – would you please excuse me?"

Molly nodded her permission, smiling kindly. "Go ahead."

Hermione smiled back at Molly and pushed Ron's hand away from her, almost regretting the loss of his touch. Standing unsteadily, she wobbled out of the kitchen and used the arm of the couch for support. She could feel the electrical current running through her, the pulse in her center begging for the sweet release. _Not now, _she tried to tell herself. _We have to wait now. _

"Hermione?"

Hermione turned. Ron was walking out from the kitchen, looking slightly worried. "Hey, I'm sorry about that… I just… it was so easy and I was bored and I thought it'd be interesting and-"

She cut him off, grabbing handfuls of his hair as she kissed him passionately. "Shut up," she whispered, "and finish what you started."

Ron's eyes glowed. Breaking away, he checked behind him to listen to the calm conversation of his family. "Okay," he said. "But we have to be quick about it."

Hermione felt a twinge of excitement; that was a challenge she would be much more likely to complete successfully.

"Good, now hurry up!"

She impatiently pulled him down to the couch, opening her legs to let him between them. She connected their lips again, no longer worried about getting caught but only about the relief she so desperately needed.

Ron's hands pushed up past her skirt and squeezed her bare arse, causing her to jump and moan his name. "Shh," he reminded her, masking the noises she was now making with his mouth. "They're right there… hear us anytime…"

"Hurry, Ron," she begged, hitching her legs over his waist and pulling his hard form down on top of her. Through their layers of clothing she could feel him pressed against her upper thigh. He adjusted himself so he was at her entrance and her heart fell down between her legs, pulsing rapidly against him. "I'm already so close…"

"Oh fuck. Bloody fucking hell..."

Hermione whined. His right hand released its hold on her bum and, after checking that they were once again alone, Ron slid it beneath her knickers. Hermione jerked, her body burning for contact. He slid his middle and index finger into her easily, curling and pumping them against her wall as he worked gently on her clit.

It wasn't long before Hermione was meeting each thrust from his long fingers. A tingling sensation was growing in her chest, swelling to overwhelming power as it began spreading down her arms and body, all the way to her toes. "O-oh R-R-Ron," she said shakily. She no longer had control of her body. "Oh my God, R-Ron, don't stop. W-Whatever you do, don't stop, oh my…"

Hermione's face froze as her orgasm came crashing over her, the tingling all over her body intensified by the now steady pounding of Ron's fingers moving inside her. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was struggling to be quiet; what would have been screams were reduced to hoarse, high-pitched whimpers.

When the power of the orgasm finally began to subside, Hermione realized there was a wet bite-mark on Ron's shoulder. She couldn't bring herself to care, however, as she collapsed against the couch, Ron kissing her face gently. He was panting and red-faced, his eyes cloudy. "Bloody hell, that was brilliant."

"You're telling me," Hermione laughed weakly. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I didn't recall hands getting the job that well done."

Ron shrugged, grinning crookedly. "It's been a few months. I suppose anything's good at this point."

Hermione nodded and settled against the arm of the couch, choosing not to speak, but instead watch him contently. The orgasm had taken its toll on her and she was feeling more relaxed and comfortable than she had in months. As such, she didn't want to move, or talk, or even blink, for that matter. Everything was perfect as it was; why spoil it?

"Ron, is Hermione okay?"

Ron and Hermione both looked toward the kitchen. "She's fine, Mum!" Ron called. "Just took her a minute. I'm going up to use it now – need to wash my hands, I'd reckon," he added under his breath.

Hermione nodded, laughing quietly.

"Well, tell her to hurry back in here! She needs to finish her dessert!"

"Thank you," Hermione murmured, kissing Ron once as he sat up. "I'm afraid I'll have to make it up to you later, though…"

"You don't owe me anything," Ron said as he stretched his arms. "It was quite interesting, and educational, actually."

Hermione rolled her eyes good-humoredly. "Go wash yourself off," she said, standing up on shaky legs and pulling her skirt down. "I'll be in the kitchen waiting for you."

Ron nodded and Hermione went back to the kitchen, attempting to tame her wild hair as she did so. "Sorry for the wait," she apologized as she joined them again. "Business to attend to… anyway, can you pass the chocolate pudding? I think Ron and I will do with second helpings."

**I DID IT. I FINISHED THE CHALLENGE. GOOD FRICKIN LORD ALMIGHT Y YESSSSSSSS! OH HOT DAMN I DID IT YES I DIDN'T FAIL BECAUSE HELL YEAH I'M A BAMF**

**Wait… if I don't have this challenge then what am I going to do every night between 9 PM and 1 AM?**

** Anyway, I know at least one of you liked the A-Z idea and I do agree that weekends would be best (time to think of a prompt and write it y'know) Now, here is where you guys come in: I WANT TO HEAR YOUR OPINIONS. What do you want me to write about? Yes, I know, what makes me happy, but I also want to make you all happy, so in this next challenge what do you all want? More fluff? More smut? A fairly good equalization of each? Let me know and I'll be more than pleased to do it! (Besides, I reckon I'll want something to do to get away from that horrid school xP)**

**Favorite/review if you enjoyed this challenge! So far we've gotten 89 reviews. Now I, being the greedy bastard I am, would like to see this story eventually get 100 reviews, but hey, that's all up to you! Even if you're reading this and haven't reviewed before, all your reviews are appreciated. **

**And, of course, to all the shippers out there who have been by my side the whole time, be it as following this story or reviewing each chapter, I thank you. Your comments made many of my days and caused a few of my relatives mild confusion as to why I was smiling so broadly. Please accept all my gratitude and I don't know… everything. Take it all.**

**Well, guys… I guess this is it for now. I will think about starting the next challenge and I hope to see you soon! Until the next story!**


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